Thursday, October 17, 2024

THE ENEMY WITHIN

 

How can it be so close? That question is on the mind of so many people I know, and yet no one has a good answer.

There’s no logical, rational way that the Orange One can win. If he actually does, however, it will destroy my entire world view, one that’s always been based on logical reasoning and rational thought.

Harris and her people have, after all, conducted a pitch-perfect campaign. She’s doing everything exactly right. Saying all the right things, going all the right places. Her campaign’s timing and momentum are perfect. She has all the bi-partisan support, and all the money, that she could ever hope for.

Meanwhile, there’s dementia-addled Trump – buffoon, ignoramus, pathological liar, conman, rapist, malignant narcissist, and all-around despicable human being – blathering nonsense. But wait, there’s more, say his former generals: he’s fascist to his core, incompetent, a grave threat to our democracy.

Every day he displays for all to see his deepening lunacy. His rambling trains-of-thought are so constant that he had to give them a brand – “the weave” – to try to explain away his pathology. He can’t speak for five minutes without veering into incoherence and fantasy.

And every day I ask myself again, how can it be so close? How can nearly half of all the people I see around me – driving down the freeway, pushing shopping carts in Walmart, going to football games – how can nearly half of those normal-appearing people want this lunatic to be in charge?

There are all his well-publicized issues to fear: reproductive rights, immigrant roundups, Project 2025, tariffs, abandoning Ukraine, and on and on. Not appreciated are the less-visible administrative actions that will wreck havoc on progress of the Biden-Harris administration on environmental regulations, climate change, Native American rights, and protections of natural resources, marine sanctuaries, and wilderness.

As bad as Trump is, he surrounds himself with evil, nutty people who are capable of implementing his moronic agenda. People like the Pillow Guy, Stephen Miller, Corey Lewandowski, Roger Stone, Steve Bannon, Mike Flynn.

Does the man actually believe his fantasies and lies? Once a pronouncement passes his golden lips, does that make it true? At least to him? A genuinely new non-fact-based reality for him and his acolytes? He won the 2020 election. January 6 was about peace and love. He left in a peaceful transition of power. In Ohio, Haitian immigrants are eating cats and dogs. In Colorado, Venezuelan gangs are out of control. Does he really, deep down, believe that bullshit?

I used to think it was all a con, that he was as phony as his fake university, watches, and coins. Lately though, as we all watch his mental deterioration before our eyes, I’m not so sure. Like a dealer getting high on his own product, it’s possible that his brain is so far gone that he believes his own con.

I have distant friends and relatives who, I’m pretty sure, will be voting for this asshole. I’ve heard all the justifications from such naifs, and it’s all balderdash. How can any issue – taxes, abortion, immigration – take precedence over the clear and present danger to our democracy that he presents? How can people explain away the warnings from Dick Cheney, Mark Milley, Mike Pence, and all those other Republicans who worked for Trump and know him best?

Of course I’m voting for Harris. For me, it’s not that complicated. She’s brilliant. And she’s not Trump. That’s enough.

We’re less than three weeks from the climax of this crazy story. Trump’s going to lose, and I predict it won’t be as close as the polls now suggest. Of course, that won’t be the end of it, since there will be myriad challenges and charges of voter fraud and cheating. But like the last time, he will lose. Then we’ll see if President Harris and Vice President Walz can deliver on their promise to turn the fucking page.

  # # #

Wayne’s Blog – Index

 

Tuesday, October 8, 2024

AN ETHICAL DILEMMA

Did I cross an ethical line when I bought a ladder yesterday at Jerry’s Home Improvement Center? Will my new stepladder have bad karma?

I figure, though, that even if it does, it couldn’t be worse than my old one, with its two paint-splattered steps and top, that it replaced. A year or so ago, I backed over it, then hammered out the legs to a usable state. I could live with that, I suppose, but the last straw for that ladder was Saturday afternoon.

I was standing on top of it, reaching up the far side of the house with my DeWalt screw gun, in order to replace a disintegrating tarp that covers scrap wood and stuff that I keep around. You know. Just in case. Our privacy fence on the property line there is real close to the house, handy for hanging my aluminum extension ladder.

All was going well until one foot of my little stepladder poked down into the dirt and then deep into a mole tunnel. Of course, I should have expected it and wasn’t even particularly surprised when the ladder collapsed and I landed in a heap, atop the two metal rat traps I’d brought to set under the new tarp.

The scrap wood had been covered with rat turds. As I was first inspecting things, one had shot by me, two feet from my nose. I’ve been trying to catch her for months. Tried everything. Bacon grease, salmon eggs, chicken skin, combos with sunflower seeds. Now, I’ve caught and executed lots of rats here in the past, but this one is special. Too smart to catch. I even set up a trail cam to watch her come and go during the night from our back-deck water fountain.

The reason I think it’s a “she” is that there had been a whole family. They had learned to cross, like furry trapeze artists, the wire to reach an especially inviting sunflower seed feeder. One per night for about a week, I popped the rat youngsters with a pellet gun from our second-floor deck. The young ones never learned, but that’s when I think Mama Rat got smart and now is the one I’m dealing with.

Hopefully, the live traps are too small for the visiting skunks, opossum, and neighborhood cats that also come to drink. When I catch chipmunks by accident, I always let them go. Although it’s not the point of this story, there’s another moral dilemma involved here.

Last month, one of those cute little chipmunks that are so fun to watch scurrying around, one of those innocent-looking cartoonish critters, cost me $850. The actual pre-car insurance-payout cost was $2,150. The little bastard had found a route into the cabin of my Honda Pilot, that parks in the driveway near our house. Made itself quite a cozy home. I pulled out a bucket of shredded insulation. Dealer had to replace the blower motor and a bunch of other expensive stuff.

No rat ever cost me like that. But I kill the rats and feed the chipmunks. I think it makes sense, but…

Anyway, it’s not a total surprise that our rat is so finicky and hard to trap. Our place is a fast-food bonanza for critters. Ten or so feeders with sunflower seeds. Chicken food scattered around in their pen. Water. Cover. What’s not to like?

Deer cruise through. A family of turkeys. One week, a young bear. I keep a bird list taped to the guest bathroom mirror of the 64 species of birds we’ve seen or heard on or from our little postage-stamp of a property – not to brag but to showcase how Nature is all around us.

Including underground moles. I’ve tried everything. Killer traps, baits, poisons. The only thing that works is flooding their tunnels with a garden hose for a few minutes. Eventually they either drown or go away after a few days of that. But here along the hidden side of the house, I don’t bother. What harm could they do?

That question didn't cross my mind as I crashed to the ground. On my way down, I knocked the extension ladder off its hooks. It landed squarely on my head.

I untangled myself from the two ladders and checked things out. Nothing hurt, not even my pride, since my wife was inside the house. She must have heard the crash, but I guess she’s gotten used to such surprises. I wondered if I yelled (or screamed) loud enough, whether she would hear me.

That was it for my old, tired stepladder. I shopped online for a replacement, but ended up at Jerry’s in Eugene, since I had a $50 gift card that would cover it -- $49.97, to be exact. The card was from our real estate agent, who sold some family property for us last spring, and I’d been carrying it around since then.

I pushed my shopping cart across the store to the ladders, found what I was looking for, and put it in my cart. As I started to leave, I noticed a red price tag on the lowest shelf. “Sale Price. Marked Down. $39.97.”

All right!

But at checkout, I looked at my receipt and had been charged the full price. I explained to the clerk, but she could find no indication that the ladder was on sale. I said, “You wanna walk over there?” So that’s what we did. She looked at the sale tag, wrote down some numbers, and we started back to the register.

She was a couple of steps ahead of me, when I looked closer at the price tag on the shelf. In the fine print, it read, “Sale ends, Oct. 4.” This was Oct. 7.

Hmmm.

I said nothing and took my $10 refund.

Was that wrong?

As for my new stepladder’s karma, is there such a thing as pre-karmic justice? Delivered by a mole, nonetheless? In any event, I’m going to be extra careful when using my new stepladder.

 

# # #

Wayne’s Blog – Index