Got Through Another Day

     I even managed to finish up the laundry, do some vacuuming, change my sheets and grill a couple of little steaks for dinner, with mixed tiny potatoes, fancy mushrooms and a bagged salad.

     That's about as low-effort a nice meal as can be had.  Sure, I had to build a charcoal fire (even emptied all the ash from the grill!), any clean and cut up the mushrooms -- but the purple (all the way through!), red (only on the outside) and brown (ditto) potatoes get microwaved in their bag along with the pat of seasoned butter they're sold with, and the mushrooms go in a covered pan over low heat with a little olive oil, a smidgen of butter, some truffle zest and a hint of salt -- you just put 'em in there and ignore them for ten minutes or so.  I would have cooked them in a grill pan, but I forgot about them until the last minute and stovetop is easier to prepare.

     Tomorrow, back at it!  I've had a project going downtown at work that I might be able to make some progress on.  It involves working on the rooftop, which is good (no adult supervision!) and bad (a long climb up a fixed ladder and people tend to forget you're up there).

     Anyway, in 2026, with the world a mess and seriously askew people in leadership at home and abroad, today was about as good as it gets. 

Lookit Me! I'm Almost Human!

     I chaired the critique group this morning, and that went well.  It's usually pretty draining -- the cost of being an introvert -- but afterwards, I actually managed to get nerved up to walk over to Fat Dan's and enjoy a late lunch with Tam.  (Adequate coleslaw -- look, I'm judgemental about that dish because I like it -- and a very good toasted pastrami and corned beef sandwich on rye, with Swiss cheese and brown mustard.)

     It might not sound like much, but it's been months since I had a meal out -- and months since I walked that far.  I'm having a lot of trouble with social anxiety these days, and with my knees, and it's much too easy for me to just avoid it all: to have minimal social interaction, not go to new places, order online as much as possible and avoid physical exertion.  I'm trying to break those habits, reinforced during the pandemic (except for walking -- Tam and I were taking daily walks around the block for a couple of years), and it's slow going.

     One step at a time.  I can do this.  I've done it in the past.  The knees get better when I get out there and interact with the world, and so does my ability to deal with people.

Nuttier Than Ever

     Indiana's Lieutenant Governor continues to express peculiar opinions -- now he's concerned "Marxist Democrats" are going to lay the groundwork for an "Islamic Caliphate," right here in River Cit- er, Indiana.

     Take this as your regular reminder that not even our arch-conservative Governor Mike Braun wanted to run with this guy as his Number Two; the state GOP leadership made him do so.  And Indiana Democrats, while they're certainly Democrats, run more in the Evan Bayh mold, Lefty-Centrist or even a little Right, depending on the issue and the individual.  (Our actual Hoosier socialists -- Eugene V. Debs, for instance -- never hid it.)

     I'm not at all sure why he thinks there's any love or collusion between Islamic fundamentalists and Marxists; history suggests they're not exactly compatible, from Afghanistan to Chechnya to the Uyghurs.*  He appears to be just piling up scary things so he can warn everyone of the terrible, terrrrrible dangers that he's sure only an application of the exact right kind of Jesus to civil government can protect against -- I'm surprised he didn't throw feminism or transgender people in, as well.  Oooga-booga!  Guys like him live their life as if it's an episode of Scooby-Doo, never realizing that they're not the good-hearted "meddling kids" but the man in the monster mask.

     Bonus: Ohh, friend, either you're closing your eyes to a situation you do not wish to acknowledge or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated....

     Always doubt the motives of a man who's pushing you for a quick emotional reaction; he's reaching for your wallet -- or your fundamental freedoms. 
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* Largely but not entirely Muslim.

A Return To Space

      The next season of For All Mankind is out.  On Apple TV, it's an "alternate history" in which the Russians beat the U.S. to the Moon (barely) and the Space Race never stops, forcing technological advancements.

     It's a world both familiar and strange.  In some ways, it's the future the adults promised us during my childhood -- but in the real world, we'd stopped going to the Moon before I started High School.  Because of that, at times it's almost painful to watch the show: they've got science bases on the Moon and a settlement on Mars!

     In other ways, it's clearly fiction -- and remains on a timeline that would result in the setting of The Expanse.  Politicians exhort, "Earth first!" in both shows, Martian settlers are determined and resentful, asteroids are mined for minerals (just beginning in For All Mankind and an ongoing industry in The Expanse). Some of the fractious nations of Earth have come together in the Apple TV series as the "M-7," which runs Mars and oversees the exploitation of space-based resources.

     It's a timeline based on the Sunday-supplement articles and TV specials of my childhood, but the showrunners aren't looking through rose-colored glasses.  "If only..." is a wistful dream and the TV series eschews wistfulness for a sprawling cast, a storyline as wide as history and a past that feels like a future.  The story hasn't quite leapfrogged the calendar -- the current season is set in the 2010s -- but the technology certainly has.

Television Of Interest

     Tamara and I recently watched the entire run of the CBS-carried show Person of Interest, finishing last night.  Despite ending nearly a decade ago, the show is surprisingly current, addressing the rise of "machine intelligence," pervasive surveillance, government (and government contractor) corruption and the morality of power.

     Heavy stuff -- but carried along with no small amount of action and adventure, by a group of competent characters who will beat you at chess or in hand-to-hand combat.  The series begins as one more entry in the "mysterious strangers help good people and stymie evil" genre, along the general lines of, say, The Pretender, Mission: Impossible, Quantum Leap, Have Gun Will Travel, Danger Man, The Avengers and so on: drama in the Gothic mode, with a clear conflict between good and evil, in which good triumphs just in time for the credits to roll, usually by the skin of its teeth.

     That would have been more than enough to carry a TV series, but Person of Interest didn't stop there.  A smart underlying concept and strong characters pushed it more and more along science-fictional lines, in a near-future, near-cyperpunk world of corrupt cops, honest cops, warring criminal gangs, computer geniuses, super-spy/assassins -- and a number of surprisingly human touches, throughlines of love and loss.  From season to season, the story deepens, the bad guys get bigger and badder, and our small band of heroes rise to the occasion or die trying.  There are Classical mappings to most good drama, and if you ever wondered what might happen if clever, lame Hephaestus; bold, handsome Apollo; wise, cryptic Pallas Athena; implacable Nemesis; Artemis the huntress; the Delphic Oracle and a gritty NYC police detective* faced off against Hera, Zeus and Hermes (with a small army of giants and Titans on their side, all answering to Colossus the Forbin Project), this is an answer, with enough side characters and conflicts left over to fill out any collection of ancient gods or a modern rogues' gallery. 

     This is a series well worth watching while it is still fiction.  Don't wait too long.
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* Even I can only strain a metaphor so far, though impulsive Ares is a not-unreasonable analog for Detective Lionel Fusco.  But I will still argue that most ensemble-cast dramas (and not a few comedies) can be mapped onto the various pantheons of the past, for a very simple reason: our stories still deal in archetypes and in human emotion writ large.  Good casting helps; the actors in Person of Interest were as varied as their characters, people of divergent inclinations and career paths who all brought something of themselves to their roles. 

Eggs Pomodoro, Sort Of

     Last night, I made a kind of soup or ragout with ground turkey, mushroom, onion, carrot, celery and mushroom-chicken broth.  It was quick, fresh and easy to make, and there was a little left, which I froze.

     This morning, looking at the choices -- bacon and eggs, oatmeal, Malt-O-Meal,  toast -- I was unimpressed.  All good, but all the same old stuff.

     I had three mushrooms left over, and a little celery and....h'mm, a can of crushed tomatoes.  So I fried up a strip of bacon and drained off most of the fat, diced and cooked the mushrooms in the same pan along with a little celery, and defrosted the leftovers in the microwave.

     The broth had been okay at best.  I poured it off, then added the turkey and vegetables to the skillet with the can of crushed tomatoes and "Italian blend" seasoning, crumbling in the bacon.  Once it was bubbling, I broke a couple of eggs into it and let it simmer, covered.  (I have clear "universal" pan lids in a couple of sizes, very useful for this kind of thing.)

     A dozen minutes later, it was done.  A "fancy" breakfast from this and that.

Omininousity

      Things didn't end well for Cassandra, but they were bad long before they got worse: the thing about prophecies of doom is, even if they're right, they're a downer.

     The downer at present is that we're in a "K-shaped economy," which feels preposterous to most Americans: how can a rising tide not be lifting all boats?

     But that's how it's working: if you were well-off to begin with, came out of the pandemic with money to play the stock market and not worry, a bit in crypto, maybe dabble in prediction markets, you're doing fine.  The trade war (wars?) haven't bothered you; the un-war with Iran hasn't been an issue, and while there's a whole lot of oil and gas (and aluminum and ammonia plus nitrates for fertilizer) bottled up in the Strait of Hormuz, those chickens are still scratching in the yard, and aren't due home to roost for weeks yet.  The top half of the K is going up, up, up!

     But this K is a fancy font: the bottom half is a quarter circle.  If you started out just okay, you're still mostly okay; if you were worse off, you can already feel the pinch of high gas prices and grocery prices that have barely budged down or even gone up, of rising energy costs....  And the people near the bottom, where the curve is getting steep?  They're hosed.  (Welcome to Calculus 001, by the way.  Oh, we've reached my stop already.)

     There are a lot more of us in the bottom of the K than the top, but we don't make colorful news copy; we're not part of the "AI boom" and some of us have lost jobs to it; still, one of the biggest groups is right there where the curve is barely sloping: they're not feeling it much so far.

     But the big dip in the road is coming.  There is no magic restart for the lost months of global trade in oil and all the stuff you can make with it.  Fertilizer is in short supply and expensive, and that's what grows the crops you and your entree eat.  Aluminum -- beer cans, soft drink cans, all manner of consumer and industrial goods -- is getting scarce and costly.  And oil prices -- well, you buy gas; you know how that's trending.  There will be a "capture transient" as it ends, prices ramping up beforehand, undercut by the sudden bump in supply that may result in a nasty fall.  A saving grace as the problem continues is that idled refineries and oil wells (etc.) don't start up quickly; but it's a bitter pill, since it will mean lingering shortages and higher prices until it's all back up to speed.

     Nobody liked Cassandra very much.  They liked her predictions less.  And in a K-shaped economy, you can see the party is roaring!  Look at 'em, in their Rollses and Bentleys, with BMWs and Mercedeses (Mercedii?) for the kids, and all their outrageous costumes -- surely you, too, will soon join them!  It's right there, online and on TV, glittering and shiny, nearly close enough to touch.

     Thing is, you're not gonna get there.  In a K-shaped economy, very few cross over.  The odds it'll be you or me are lousy.   I'm not Cassanda; I'll be happy to have missed my mark.  But that's not how I'm betting. 

Slow-Roasted Skirt Steak

      They've had skirt steaks at the grocer's for some time at a price that is only a little unreasonable and today, I decided to go for it.  It's probably going to cost more later, after all.

     They don't take well to rapid cooking.  You want to go at a skirt stake low and slow, or apply some interesting culinary trickery, or perhaps both.  I picked up some diced red onion, a Poblano pepper and a couple of containers of oyster mushrooms.  (And a box of beef broth, just in case, but I didn't need it.)

     I have just the pan for the job.  As winter ebbed and I started using the grill more, I was thinking about cookware.  I used cheap Teflon pans for years until that started looking like a bad idea, and Revere Ware (copper-bottom stainless steel), which is great to cook in but so very not non-stick. I love my skillet and stewpot from Our Place, but they don't like high temperatures.  My graniteware oval roasting pans are nice, but too thin for direct heat....

     Graniteware is enamelware, and there's a famous, colorful brand of enamel-finished cast-iron pots and pans that has long tempted me.  The Our Place people have a whole line it, too.  Both are first-rate cooking hardware -- and priced to match.  I went looking for something closer to entry-level, to give it a try with a little less commitment.  It turns out that Lodge, a company which makes all kinds of plain cast iron, also does enameled versions.  I've had a round 12" roasting pan with a lid for a while now, and it's working well.  (Bright red with a cream-colored interior!)

     It was just the thing for the skirt steak.  I applied unsalted "steakhouse" rub to it and let it sit while I melted a half-teaspoon of butter and a splash of light olive oil in the pan, just enough to coat the bottom.  I left the fire very low and once the pan was warmed up, I laid the skirt steak in it in a big circle,  covered it and started doing dishes.

     After ten or twelve minutes, it was cooking pretty well and smelled good when I lifted the lid.  I added about half an onion on the meat and put the lid back, and went back to my dishwashing.  When the sink was clear, I washed the Poblano, cleaned out the seeds and white pulp, and diced it finely, then added it, mostly on the steak.  There was now plenty of liquid around the meat; I wasn't going to need the broth.  I puttered around for another fifteen minutes, then washed, cut the stems away and added all the oyster mushrooms (you could use ordinary Porcinis, but we like the fancy ones).

     I let it simmer, covered, for about a half hour while I cleaned up the kitchen and set up for supper.  The total cook time was out an hour and a half start to finish.

     It was good -- the skirt steak is sliced into thin strips crosswise to serve, and with a generous helping of the mushrooms and vegetables and a bit of the liquid, it only needed the least touch of salt.  We had salad on the side, too.

     I am pretty sure hard times are coming.  The effects of the long closure of the Straits of Hormuz haven't hit yet, and when they do, it's not going to be the politicians or the high-rollers playing Wall Street who will feel the pain.  It'll be you and me.  Might as well enjoy a few small luxuries now, while we can.

     (I wrote this on the big iPad last night, and as the post got longer, the keyboard became laggier and laggier.  By the last couple of paragraphs, it was nearly impossible to edit, trying to chase the cursor around.  Better now, but there are probably still a few left.)

Easy-Open Oranges

     They're not cheap, and they have a somewhat limited season, but "Sumo" Mandarin oranges are delightful, for all the name is a cultural mishmash.  The Sumo part appears to be because they're burly, as oranges go, and they have a topknot at the stem end.

     That topknot makes them easy to open: just grab it and twist.  The fruit inside is sweet and juicy, easily separated from the thick rind.  Tamara loves them, and will buy them any time they're available.

     As the season goes on, they get even sweeter and juicier.  I was enjoying one today (kind of, ahem, "borrowed" from Tam's stock) and I was reminded of a gadget from my childhood: An in-orange juicer.

     We called them "squooters," but the "OJ Squeater," world's smallest juice extractor, seems to be what we had, and it's a riff on the Citri Sipper, patented in 1931.  I looked in vain at the big retail sites, but eBay's got plenty of them, and the original Citri Sipper appears to still be a staple of Florida orange stands.  Caveat emptor on those links -- and are you sure you don't have one in the back of the kitchen-gadgets drawer?

     I didn't, and I wish I had.  These late-season Sumo Mandarins are made for 'em.  Nicest Vitamin C I ever had.

Blindly "Edgy?" Disgruntled Employee? What?

      Not to be too vague about it, but the online official swag store of a certain auto-racing sanctioning group briefly offered a T-shirt design so offensive that I won't post it here.

     There's also the fact that they memory-holed it shortly after the image started making the rounds on social media.  Sure, the page got archived; but provenance is a bit tricky when all you've got is a big stack of HTML that anyone with the skills could write, having grabbed the code from a different page of the same site.  I saw it myself, so I think it was indeed real; doubting the initial reports, I had done a search on their site to find it and had the page up for about thirty minutes before hitting "refresh" and pulling a 404. 

     The design in question featured a race-car driver in full kit -- helmet, fireproof union suit, gloves and so on -- seated in a throne-type chair modeled on the one the statue of Lincoln sits in at the Lincoln Memorial, fasces and all.*  Vertical red and white stripes in the proportion of the ones on our flag fill space behind and above the seated figure.  It was apparently in promotion of an automobile race in Washington, D.C. that is part of the celebrations for our country's 250th anniversary.

     The image itself is not the offensive part; it's a little tone-deaf to unseat Lincoln, but decades of zany Presidents' Day-themed ads show that general kind of thing isn't uncommon.  Nope, the problem was the text: Above the driver, "ONE NATION."  Below him, between five-pointed stars, "ONE RACE."

     It's not a cute pun. It's not a dogwhistle.  It's an air-raid siren.  To their credit, the page selling that shirt was taken down shortly after it started getting general attention; to their detriment, somebody made the decision to create and post it in the first place.
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* There's a tendency in various corners of the Internet to point at such representations of rods bundled around an axe in various government buildings, documents, coins, etc. and sagely intone, "That proves it! It's a fascist government!" It proves nothing of the sort; our government was established by men LARPing the Roman Republic (with a touch of Ancient Greek democracy) and for Rome, fasces were a symbol of the power to dispense high and low justice.  Mussolini co-opted it, but he was way late to the table, and was thinking more of Imperial Rome.  And yes, Republic or Empire, the Romans were a bloody-handed bunch, and there are better ways to symbolize government than implied beatings and beheadings.  It's a pretty good reminder of the need for checks and balances, and that justice had better be tempered with wisdom and mercy; but artistic and symbolic use in the U.S. is rarely that nuanced, either.  It's just one more bit of semiotic shorthand to say that government is still in charge of all levels of justice, right up there with the eagle clutching arrows in one claw and olive branches in the other.

Aw, Spare Me

     My family, what's left of it, sometimes shares nostalgic text messages about our happy childhood, and that's fine; we're all pretty old and enjoyable memories are a great comfort.

     Thing is, I disliked childhood.  I never saw anything clearly at farther away than arm's length until I was eight years old -- after being chided for years, "Don't you see it?  Oh, look there!" and not figuring out the reason why.  They tell me what a bright and inquisitive child I was, and darned right: I was trying to figure out the trick to understanding those blurred shapes.

     I spent all of first grade in trouble for not paying attention to what was on the blackboard, and all of second grade being humored as a child who was clearly, mystifyingly, unable to learn much.

     Here's a free tip: if your child is sitting a foot away from the TV or computer (etc.), it might be a good idea to get their vision checked.  Those halcyon years are apparently way better when you can see what's going on.

--

     This post started out to be a rant about news coverage of the current President, which still veers between normalizing stuff with an "Oh, that wacky, limits-testing Republican!" tone and pundits claiming that this time he's gotten himself way too far out on a limb or askew from popular opinion or whatever, and he's about to be brought to heel.  Yeah, well, his will to power is unprecedented for all it borders on incoherent -- and I can write that as someone who was reading newspapers during the Johnson and Nixon Administrations, though I did need some help with the big words in LBJ's early years.  And just who or what. exactly, is going to rein the man in?  His party?  Don't count on it.  Congress?  Nope.  The Courts?  The Supreme Court is brought and paid for, or a large chunk of the Court's conservative majority is. (Look up Leonard Leo, who is to the Right what they say George Soros is for the Left.)

     The misadventure with Iran may yet prove to be an own goal he can't avoid.  Fuel and fertilizer prices are nowhere near done spiking, even if the Strait of Hormuz magically opens up this afternoon.  It will likely be a year or more before the disruption works its way through the system and once it has, prices are unlikely to drop much.  2026 and 2027 will be hungry years.  How hungry remains to be seen, and this is the kind of thing that loses elections -- but it's also the kind of thing that powers major upheavals in systems of government.  So don't tell me "We've got him now!" when that pig isn't even in the poke.

     Chaos is Mr. Trump's very own briar patch. He's not well-spoken; he has never struck me as being particularly bright in a puzzle-solving way.  But give him a clamorous mess, and so far, he has a real skill for coming out on top.  Maybe it's all just bluster and bullshit and associates who have figured out how to profit by upholding and riding his coattails, but it works for him, even as it leaves most of us worse off -- and it leaves his rank and file followers sufficiently less worse off than the people they (and he) most dislike that they have not been minding the downside.  That's a formula for a certain kind of political success, one largely confined to authoritarian, personalist movements.

--

     I believed I was out of childhood when, finally, I got to the point that I was free to starve on my own merits.  I wasn't done growing up until I learned that sometimes, you need a hand when things get bad.

     I won't believe we're done with Trumpism until we are -- and we're putting in the effort to build better checks and balances, to keep Congress, the courts and the Executive Branch more protective of their own powers and less inclined to get in one another's pockets.  If we do not, the system will remain vulnerable to whatever demagogue, from whichever part of the political spectrum, comes along next to work it for their own gain.

And The Winner Is...

      Advertising! That was the biggest winner in Indiana's primary elections yesterday.  There was a big uptick in ad money, largely spurred by supporters of President Trump's efforts to unseat the seven State Senators who thwarted redistricting efforts.

     Turnout was unusually high -- in Marion Country, nearly double that of the previous two primaries.  And that's half of the story.

     The other half is not so great.  All that money pouring in, those TV ads painting that candidate as a closet liberal* and this candidate as a true-hearted America First† stalwart did bring people to the primary polls in record numbers, but that record still amounts to a 14.9% turnout instead of the usual single digits.  Just over eighty-five percent of registered voters are, apparently, okay with whoever the rest of us pick.  I'm honored, I guess -- but should you really trust me when you have a chance to put your own two cents in?

     (And by the way, my thanks to the two parties, especially the GOP, for spending the big dollars buying airtime from my employer, whom you otherwise revile.  You helped keep my paycheck from bouncing, in a market where my industry's share of dwindling advertising dollars continues to shrink.)

     Looking at horserace-level results, of the seven primaried Republicans, five lost to nearly indistinguishable challengers, replacing Tweedle-don't with Tweedle-do.  One held on, and the seventh hung in the balance over a difference of three (3) votes for a long time before being called for the incumbent.  Still okay staying home for the primaries?

     Don't look at me to lay a feather on the scales against either candidate's heart in that close contest.‡ I voted in the Democrat primary.  These are times to pick a side, and downstream of the 2021 insurrection, I'll never vote for a Republican.  They could have cleaned house, tossed out the vandals, religious extremists and authoritarians.  They chose to retcon recorded history and double down instead, so I'll content myself with picking the best Democrats I can find.  (As the late P. J. O'Rourke said of Hillary Clinton in 2016, "...she’s wrong within normal parameters.") 

     The 2026 Indiana primary is done.  The main event is in November -- and the future of the country is on the line.  Nobody's coming to save us, nobody except for us.
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* Despite, in every instance I could check, a voting record somewhat to the right of Genghis Khan and fulsome support of the incumbent President on nearly every issue except redistricting.
 
† Seriously, when did they stop teaching U. S. History in our schools?  That slogan has an ugly history, only barely outside living memory.  Yes, the surface meaning of the words is just fine -- in much the same way as an English word of Scandinavian origin meaning miserly has utterly no relation to a vile racist slur and swastikas have a long and innocent history in Greek, Indian and Native American art.  People of good sense avoid 'em anyway, because the negative associations are far too strong.
 
‡ Indiana Senate District 23 isn't my neighborhood anyway.

Primary Day

     Today's election results should be interesting.  The outcomes for the Indiana Republicans being primaried at the behest of the Republican president may tell us a little -- not a lot, but a little -- about the extent to which Mr. Trump still commands his base.

     Hoosiers remain crossgrained, and tend to prefer the familiar to the new; the latter trait probably finds stronger expression among GOP voters than Democrats.  On the other hand, a lot of the former have hitched their wagons very firmly so Mr. Trump's star.  So we shall see.  A rising star -- or a falling one?

Election Homework Done

     A good start for a Monday: I have located our polling place (a little Lutheran church that has hosted voting several times in recent years) and re-reviewed the (few) primary choices.  Indiana runs closed primaries, but neither party fielded a whole lot of candidates; the Democrats managed a full slate, while the Republicans skipped a few offices, but neither one offered more than one choice for many offices.

     Most of them are unglamorous jobs, like county assessor and clerk of the courts, where there's a lot of actual work and not much shaking hands and making speeches.  Only a few are even useful stepping stones to anything bigger; so what you end up with are people who want the job, either in and of itself or to show they're good members of their party, willing to step up, run, and (usually) do the work if they win.

     Someone's got to do the dull grunt work of government, and I have made my list and checked it more than twice.  I'm going to be interested in turnout numbers; it's not a great predictive metric for the general election this Fall, but it's what we've got.  If turnout for the primary is usually high (or low), that'll be a hint what to expect.

I'm In!

     The new desktop arrived late this afternoon, and after a break for dinner, I'm setting it up.  I've got some applications to download, and I'm hoping to dig out an optical drive and install Word eventually, but the process is underway.

     It's a Windows computer, and this is yet another thing that is pretty comforting with an Apple/Mac product -- and kinda scary in Windows.  I haven't been pulled all the way into the walled garden; work is still very Microsoft-centric, but were it not for a lingering fondness for Paint and the older version of WordArt in MS-Word, I would be very tempted.

Wow

      It's more frustrating than I would have thought.  My replacement desktop computer has been delayed by a day, and I'm not good with it.

     Which is silly.  It will be here when it gets here, and until it does, I have many alternatives.

     I can't say the same about the current Administration: there are no alternatives, and they are taking the kinds of actions that suggest to me they expect a drubbing at mid-terms and want to accomplish as much of their extreme agenda as possible before the axe falls.

     From paying off energy companies to not build new wind and solar plants -- while waging a war that is driving up the price of oil! -- to making abortions ever more difficult to obtain legally, to last minute attempts at redistricting now that the U. S. Supreme Court has finished gutting the Voting Rights Act and frivolous, vengeful prosecutions (most notably over a former FBI director posting a photo of the number "8647" to social media, despite the current President himself having posted a picture that included "8646" and a bound and gagged Joe Biden during the latter's time in office*).  None of it is popular outside of the most dedicated portions of the MAGA base or those to the extreme Right of even it.

     That's both Wow-worthy and frustrating.  This is well past "political hardball," and on its way to a soft coup or autogolpe.  I think a majority of voters won't like it and will register their disapproval at the ballot box this Fall.  But will it matter?  I don't know.  And that worries me most of all.
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* They're both childish things to post.  This is exactly the kind of ultimately petty tit-for-tat that led me to start using only actual names and titles for politicians, no matter what I thought of them.

Backup Laptop, Backup Skull

     I'm stuck with the original-issue Mark I head -- which is a pity, since I have a migraine of remarkably dizzying intensity.  I have taken OTC pain and allergy medicine and promised myself that as soon as the symptoms fade a little, I will rinse out my sinuses.  The wave after wave of rain and the pressure fronts that drive them are playing a big part this, I hope, and clearing things out should help.

     Meanwhile, I managed get my desktop to run long enough to grab essential Firefox stuff and the Downloads, Documents and Pictures folders.  I'm on my backup (Windows-lite) laptop and my pandemic-indulgence MacBook Air for now, which gets me just about everything except the big screen.  Fiction and writing-related stuff was already on Dropbox, since it allows me to go between Windows and the MacBook almost seamlessly.  I've got a replacement desktop machine on the way, and there will be a certain amount of rebuilding once it arrives.

And..."Your Computer Has Encountered A Problem And Needs To Restart"

     Over and over, and the longer it runs, the worse it gets.  I thought I had solved the problem, but nope.  My current desktop computer was like a hundred and a half when I bought it, used/refurbished, almost three years ago.  So I guess I have got my money's worth, and nearly all my writing is saved elsewhere.

     Not everything else is.  I'll recover what I can and keep moving, but it's annoying and unexpected.  And yes, once I have a replacement up and running, I'll be checking for thermal issues and other simple stuff.

Punished For Retroactive Bad Taste

     There was a time when you didn't mess with The Mouse.  Used to be, if legislators started talking about the need for copyright reform, you knew one or more of the copyrights covering a certain famous animated cartoon rodent and his pals was about to expire.

     Back when every major TV network changed hands and ended up belonging to one huge corporation or another,* Disney got hold of ABC.  They've never let go.

     And they had deep pockets.  TV networks in the United States own only a few of the stations that carry them, with the remained being independently-owned "affiliates."  ABC's got seven stations that are all theirs at present.  And in the U.S., the FCC regulates stations: anyone using up over-the-air RF spectrum has to have a license.  Networks themselves don't get a lot of FCC regulatory interaction; the individual stations do have to promise to be honest and fair, friendly and helpful, considerate and caring, courageous and strong, and responsible for what they say and do, and to respect themselves and others, respect authority, use resources wisely, make the world a better place, and....  No, wait,  that's Girl Scouts; but the FCC regs for broadcast stations are almost the same thing, plus a pile of technical stuff.

     ABC was a latecomer among radio networks; NBC had "Red" (primo stuff) and "Blue" (B-grade, things they were trying out, some highbrow shows that didn't make a profit) networks serving different stations and went into WW II under an anti-trust cloud because of it.  Once the war was over, Uncle Sam made 'em sell one off, and of course it was Blue that went.

     A candy company bought it up and eventually changed the name from "Blue" (c'mon, the word already had that connotation) to ABC, the kid brother of networks, gamely charging after the older, larger NBC and CBS (and Mutual), doing their best to keep up.  The first two were already into TV and as television bloomed, ABC leapt in after them, underfunded, scrappy, willing to try almost anything.  (After a few experiments, including developing Meet The Press, Mutual stuck with good, dependable radio.  They're gone now.)

     ABC remained the upstart network for decades, until Fox (entertainment, not News) came along and showed there were realms of edginess yet to be explored.

     And with that as background, their evening talk-show host Jimmy Kimmel, a few days before the White House Correspondents Dinner, made a tasteless joke about the First Lady and how she'd look at the dinner, referencing the 23-year age gap between her and Mr. Trump (and perhaps her usually-serious expression): he said she had "a glow like an expectant widow."

     It's funnier if you don't see public figures you dislike as quite human.

     It's not funny in hindsight after a guy apparently tried to make her a widow at the dinner.

     It's much less funny if you react in an all-too-human way: the Trumps aren't laughing.  FCC Chairman Brendan Carr, who has crossed swords with Kimmel and ABC once already, and blinked, announced the handful of TV stations directly owned by ABC are now up for license renewal, well ahead of schedule.  They've got thirty days to get their paperwork together and filed (and there's rather a lot of it), and they're going under the microscope.

     This is bureaucracy-as-punishment, and it is punishment not so much for a crass joke but for failing to predict the future when the joke was told.  It's a clear violation of the First Amendment, which protects even cruel and insensitive speech.

     The Mouse still has deep pockets, and though they have, finally, let the earliest version of their well-loved Mickey slip out from beneath copyright protection, Disney may decide to fight this one out; knuckling under will just get them more of the same, and the burden is likely to be laid more heavily on them than the three other major networks.  Or they may try judo: those "O&O" TV stations represent the smallest part of ABC's income; running them, mostly in major metropolitan areas, is more for prestige and ready access to newsmakers and they could easily sell them off and stand back, largely insulated from the wrath of Chairman Carr and the President he serves.
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* Arguably, when General Electric bought RCA, NBC wasn't their main interest: RCA had a nice collection of lucrative government contracts, including plenty with the Department of Defense, plus an array of patents to warm the cockles of shareholder's hearts -- or wallets.  Nevertheless, GE held on to the network through some years of David Letterman ribbing that kept the company name front and center, before selling it off and making money on the deal.

Idiots

     Did we -- as in our Federal government -- not already know this?  Late word from the White House is that if the White House Correspondents Dinner gets a do-over, maybe -- just maybe -- Vice-President James David "JD" Vance won't be there.

     No, not because he doesn't like the Press; not because they tend to loathe him, either.  And like him or not, we can reasonably assume that a Marine would not flinch from either the prospect of violence or the rubbery chicken and overcooked vegetables common to such dinners.  A serving politician is going to eat a lot of lousy food and sit in an exposed position in a lot of large, crowded rooms.

     But Saturday night, a remarkable lot of the line of succession to the Presidency was at the dinner, an event of zero diplomatic or government importance, where a remarkably inward-looking (if sometimes confrontational) collection of people look even more inward, and if the would-be assassin had completed his aim, Iowa's Chuck Grassley could well be President today.

     Senator Grassley was apparently the designated survivor (or not; there are contradictory reports, including that with the President Pro Tem of the Senate and a few Cabinet members not at the dinner, nobody got the official designation).  He's also the last elected official in the order of succession and maybe -- just maybe -- the Executive Branch might want to hold one more high-level player in reserve.  Most of the Cabinet was at the dinner, possibly because the President's people were hinting he was going to say scathing things about and to the assembled reporters and they do so enjoy that.  And the problem is, the Cabinet fills out the list of successors.  Hey, I think they're a pack of incompetent clods -- but even when it appears the Executive Branch is running around like a chicken with its head cut off, the result of a successful decapitation-level attack would be immeasurably worse.

     There were eleven known attempts against Barack Obama's life during his Presidency, more than one and a third a year.  Mr. Trump is on pace to beat that rate rather resoundingly, but all Presidents are targets and one way to limit the possible damage is to limit who else in the line of succession is exposed to the same threat at the same time and place.

     The Daybreak series by John Barnes explores some of the ways Presidential succession and Continuity of Government plans can get tangled up.  He used a science-fiction setting, with an (ultimately) external threat -- but internal factors do much of the damage.  I'd prefer not running the experiment in real life.

     "Idiot" comes to us from Ancient Greece, where it came to mean something very much like "rube."  The present Administration likes to bring in relative outsiders to politics, to government, and that means they don't necessarily have all of the situational savvy the insiders have got, things like the importance of not putting all of the eggs in one basket -- or the yeggs, either.

"We're All Looking For The Person Responsible...."

     Who's most likely to commit politically-motivated violence, the Left or the Right?

     It is unlikely to surprise you that the answer is "people askew from reality," close to a wash between Republican-or-farther-right and Democrat-or-leftier, with "fricking incoherent" in close third place.

     Most people, including the ones with political opinions that many Americans find reprehensible, know you can't assassinate your way to a better world, and a little selective murder produces only more dead people and grieving families.  While major political upheaval often involves killings, it doesn't work the other way (and most Americans are not looking for major upheaval -- again, not even a majority of the ones you disagree with most).

     Don't get sucked into the nitwittery.

I Suppose I Should Comment

     It's appropriate to make some comment about the disruption at the White House Correspondents Dinner.

     It was something of a fiasco long before it started; the famously touchy President Trump has -- unusually for a sitting President -- never attended while in office until last night.  The event is often something of a mutual roast, it's always been a little too cozy, and mostly it's a rare fancy dinner for the White House Press corps, many of whom will who wallow in it while affecting disdain.  The entertainment this year was going to be a mentalist instead of the typical comedian, a transparent shying away from discord.  It was widely anticipated that Mr. Trump was going to go hard on the assembled reporters.

     And--  Most of it never happened.  Someone with a gun tried to crash the party, and failed.

     Security at events featuring high-ranking Federal politicians is always pretty tight, and the professionals do their best to manage every rational threat they can think of.  This means an irrational assailant has an advantage, and indeed, every known attempt on the lives of Presidents since John Wilkes Booth, successful or not, has been made by someone who was, in some way or another, not rational; they appear to have acted alone* in every case.  Add someone else to that kind of a plan, and it leaks -- and should.

     There's generally some distance in well-controlled space between the security gate(s) with metal detectors, suspicious Secret Service types, etc. and the room itself, and that's on purpose.  (I've had to pass though that exact kind of gantlet† on a couple of occasions.  It's serious business.)  It buys some time.  It worked just as it should last night; the would-be attacker -- whose precise target(s) remain unknown, but there's only one way to bet -- was stopped long before he got through the last set of doors.

     And I'm glad he was.  I happen to think Donald Trump is a loathsome human being, and his inner circle are no better.  They are doing immense harm to the proper functioning of the Federal government, to American society in general, and to both our country's stranding in the world and to world peace in general.  But nobody -- nobody -- not presenting an imminent mortal threat rates extrajudicial killing by some random guy with a grudge and/or a screw loose (or by anyone else, for that matter).  Impeachment, criminal trials, 25th Amendment, losing big at the ballot box?  I wish all of it on him.  But not what was successfully headed off last night.

     Of course, I have also been hearing claims it was all faked, or "allowed to happen."  I wouldn't count on it.  Everything about the sequence of events suggests very strongly one more Lone Gunman, getting as far as he got because he started out well askew.  And I think Trump and company are enormously more reactive than proactive.  They'll make hay with this; they already started to within the first hour.  But they didn't set it up.

     In a time of chaos, this is just more damnable chaos, and the worst people will proceed to turn it to their own ends as much as they can.
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* The Kennedy assassination conspiracy theorists are welcome to debate that among themselves, but as far as can be proven, it is true.  (IIRC, there has been one attempt by a pair of desperate and borderline men working together, which failed.)
 
† Although the words are so widely misused that most dictionaries have given up, a gauntlet is a kind of glove, one that once upon a time was occasionally flung down in challenge.  A gantlet is a double row of your nominal peers, or perhaps Native Americans, who are going to whale the tar out of you as you run between them.  This does not sound like a good time, and heavy gloves aren't going to be much help.

LARPing His Faith

     It's been three days and I almost forgot -- or perhaps I should say that it is so preposterous that I nearly dismissed it out of hand.  But it's true: Indiana's delusional nutjob Lieutenant Governor Micah Beckwith continues to behave as if he's a supporting character in a Left Behind prequel film.

     The latest installment was prompted by his outrage that the Virginia legislature and voters had the temerity to redistrict the state's Congressional districts to favor Democratic candidates -- this in response to--  It's kind of a long checkers game.  I'd better review it.

     In late 2025, Donald Trump, frustrated by his party's bare majority in the U.S. House of Representatives, called on Republican-led states  ("About four," per the President) to gerrymander themselves.  The effort began with Texas, despite worries by some of that state's GOP politicians that it might dilute solidly-red districts.
     In August 2025, the Texas legislature approved a map that gave the state five more Republican-leaning districts than it previously had.  This was promptly challenged in court and worked its way up to the U.S. Supreme Court, who let the new maps stand in December of this year.
     Meanwhile, California's Governor Gavin Newsom called on their legislature to counter the move.  That's not so easy as in Texas: California has an Independent Redistricting Commission that draws their U.S. House maps.  So the legislature had to put a referendum before voters in a tearing hurry: would they approve bypassing the Commission for the next set of maps?  The referendum was successful.  California's new maps moves five districts into the safely-Democrat column.
     Over in Missouri, Republicans planned to split up a Democrat-held district centered on Kansas City.  That's still in process, having cleared the legislature, been challenged in court and upheld, and challenged by petition, which might result in a referendum to overturn the new maps.  Or it might not; that's still up in the air.
     The North Carolina legislature successfully redrew their maps and will probably replace a Democratic Congressperson with a Republican.
     Utah's been going back and forth.  Anti-gerrymandering provisions of state law limit the amount of juggling either party can do, and attempts to carve up Salt Lake City into four districts that combine with the surrounding areas to create safe spaces for GOP candidates have failed after a court challenge.  SLC is likely to continue to be represented in the House by a Democrat.
     Indiana, four-square Republican, MAGA as can be, lacking any kind of independent board or commission to decide House districts and having no anti-gerrymandering laws, should have been a shoo-in.  But Hoosiers are muleish -- and cautious.  Redistricting can water down "safe" districts.  Confronted with an informal directive from Washington, DC, the State Senate mustered enough votes to stand pat: Indiana districts remain unchanged, and the dissenting Republicans who kept it that way are being primaried.
     Maryland has tried to redraw their maps to favor Democrats, an effort which appears stalled.   New York has had the same general result.
     Florida has changes in the works; their intent is to give Republicans an edge.  It's a multistep process with commissions, committees and a special legislative session, and it has only just begun.
     And that brings me, at least, to Virginia.  Remember Virginia?  That state has also cot an independent commission to draw up their House maps; the legislature managed to pass a proposed amendment to bypass it, and put the notion before the state's voters to decide: partisan maps for 2026, or not?  They voted to redistrict.

     And that effort in Virginia, that result at the end of all the preceding back-and-forth, is what drew Micah Beckwith's ire: "Democrats aren't necessarily all dark, but they are being led by the minions and the voices of darkness—they're going to win. They're playing to win. And so we have to wake up and guys step up. If we go on the battlefield, we will win. The question is, will we enter the battlefield?"

     Got it?  In a fight they didn't start, on a "battlefield" where the Democrats had to get voter approval to redraw maps while the Republicans can just let the various state legislatures rip,* he's still worried about the "voices of darkness," and warns Republicans, "Evil will find you."

     Better yet?  Ignoring polls showing increasing voter unhappiness with Republicans, all of this shifting around is pretty much a wash.  The balance lies in the few remaining competitive districts -- and in public sentiment.  I wouldn't advise either party to count those chickens before they have all come home to roost, no matter how much they want to believe someone's goose is cooked.  I know which side I'd like to see lose, but the results remain to be seen.
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* It is nevertheless not a bug but a feature that states decide how to draw their own maps.  Nor is it Federally prohibited to draw 'em up to favor one party or another.  "Fifty experiments in democracy" doesn't promise they'll all be noble, fair-minded efforts at uplift, or even especially wise.  Don't like it?  Vote in a new set of crooks!  

Friday, Trash Day

     Hooray, hooray, Friday's here -- and the trash isn't.  In fact, it just left.  Or at least the contents of the city-supplied bin did.  They switched 'em out a month or two back, after nearly a decade of big yellow and blue plastic containers.  It was the result of a new contract, but the old ones were starting to get pretty battered.

     The new ones are gray -- and (for a fee) there's still recycling, with its own green bins.  But something interesting happened: with the old bins, you got one for free, and paid a nominal recurring charge for a second one if needed.  There weren't enough new bins to replace all the "extra" ones and as a result, as a stopgap, you can use whatever you've got, as long as it's got the right tapered-rectangle shape the collection apparatus* can pick up and dump.  And they're not checking too closely.

     After a couple of weeks of noticing the neighbors set out various trash cans, I wheeled out the one we'd been collecting cardboard in, and lo, it was emptied.  This morning, the other one is out there, full of bagged yard waste.  It's almost impossible to throw away a trash can, and we have been stuck with these ever since the city started issuing Official Bins, back when the century was still dewy-fresh.  It's about time they got back to work!

     I expect the honeymoon will be over sooner or later, but for now, it's a time for disposal.
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* You should see it!  --If you live in a city of any size, you probably already have, or something like it: a set of hydraulically-operated forks off to the left right side of the truck on a fancy "arm" that can be quickly steered (by a skilled operator) to pick up the bin, gripping just tightly enough to secure it but not break it, and dump it into a big steel box on the front of the truck.  When the box fills up, the driver pushes a button and the big box arcs up and is emptied into the far larger container on the back of the truck, which has a cover that retracts out of the way as the box swings toward it.  Rube Goldberg would be green with envy!  I'm sure watching it delights small children all over Indianapolis.  And, since they added trucks when they stopped carrying a helper to manually empty trash cans into the truck, collection is faster.  I hope the helpers got first crack at the new driver jobs, but the inner workings of trash collection in Indianapolis are as opaque as any large city's.  They've done a good job of it all along, at least. 

The Blanding

      I eat semi-healthily.  My weaknesses are a sweet tooth and a fondness for ham, sausge and beef.  Oh, and pasta.

     Salads are great -- they're better with a good vinaigrette, which includes, oh dear, salt, fat and often sugar.

     Oatmeal?  Yum -- if it's sweetened.

     And so on.  I've cut the amount of sugar in my coffee (again) to half a teaspoon, and all but given up Reese's Cups.  Salty crunchy snacks are harder to give up -- unsalted and half-salted mixed nuts help.  Bacon's got to be more of an occasional treat than it has been.

     Backing away from refined white flour is not a problem for me, other than pasta (and, okay, saltines -- oh, with a little peanut butter on them, is there a better treat?); I grew up with good rye bread and Roman Meal whole wheat, and have always preferred them to squishy, tasteless white bread.  (Our national preference for what amounts to brioche will never cease to amaze me.)

     I'm trying.  The last doctor lecture was just short of scathing; I'd not been eating as well as I should have been, and it showed.  I got worse about it during the pandemic, especially because I was keeping canned meat on the shelf and rotating through it to maintain a consistently dependable supply: Spam and corned beef hash are delicious, but....

     There are ways in which I'll never get out from under pandemic habits; I keep paper goods and hygiene supplies stocked in depth, and canned foods, too.  But I can and will eat better, and I have been doing my best for the last few months.

     I've got a lot of spices, and I'm always looking for something new.  A little more herbs and seeds, a little less salt; a little more pepper, a bit less sugar.  It's got to help!

Okay, I Did It

     I'm not thrilled about it, but there is so little good information available for older people trying to navigate the governmental and financial bureaucracy that I gave in and joined AARP.  I still think they're kind of manipulative, but probably less so than the fast-talking insurance hucksters and pettifogging bureaucrats, and I'm tired of it taking me two hours to figure out if I can rollover my work 401(k) into my personal (and embarrassingly thin) conventional IRA without taking a bath on income taxes.

     (Apparently, no, though the IRS presents the information in a confusing enough manner that it it might mean no taxes.  I'm still not entirely sure -- but me needing to pay them is probably the way to bet.  But if it was a Roth...?  I don't know, especially since I get taxed if pull money out of the existing IRA, so doesn;t that make it a Roth?  I may have to go ask the bank, though the last time I did that, they tried to refinance my house and rope me into some high-risk/high yield investment scheme and it took a rather tense meeting with a couple of suits in nice offices to convince them that I do not like gambling, I do not want all my financial stuff in the same bank, and what I wanted was an account that going to still have some money in it even if Wall Street decided October, 1929 might be fun to replay.  The number of people I knew who had their retirement plans wiped out in the dotcom bust has me convinced it's better to plan poor and be able to collect on it.  Think of it as choosing known mild disappointment over lasting regret.)

     This is going to at least double my junk mail, mostly "retirement planners" and great deals on funeral services.  Since I plan to be cremated as cheaply as possible and have most of the dust dumped out at radio towers (some are really easy to get to -- just sneak in and pour it out!), and my "retirement planning" doesn't include enough surplus to pay a planner, it's all just more trash.

Monday? There Was A Monday?

     There was a Monday, and I didn't post anything.  Sunday was a fairly busy day, once I got moving, but action has consequences:  grilling and doing a tiny bit of yard work left my knees sore, stiff and aching.

     Add in migraines and allergy symptoms despite taking the OTC pills, and I maxed out on acetaminophen and had added aspirin by Monday evening.  I have long known I was headed for arthritis in my knees; childhood rheumatic fever did a little damage, my 2006 motorscooter wreck did more (a lot more) to my right knee, and falling hard on my left knee over a year ago added to it.  The bill is coming due and all I can do is take my pills and try to move more.  Might have to go back to physical therapy.

     It was a distraction yesterday.  Who is this old person I'm riding around in, and why is she having so much difficulty standing and walking?  Oh, right.  Still me.  She's gonna have to keep at it.

     Current events keep on currenting.  I note with interest but without much comment that the President's "Liquor Cabinet" has shed another member.  All women so far -- but remember, "Women and children first," leaves plenty of leeway for SecDef, the FBI director and possibly the Secretary of State to hit the lifeboats in the first round.  There's probably a betting pool -- but don't you have better things to do with your money?

Fancy Pork Roast

     The thing about pork is, it's cheap -- and it's good, especially if you can cook it low and slow.  The grocer had Boston Butt, a nice size for roasting, and I had ideas.  I bought one and when Sunday turned out partly sunny and cold, I put my plans into action.

     I almost didn't.  It's a nice skill to start a charcoal fire with a single match.  It's a lot more difficult on a windy day and it took me six matches before I got one to burn long enough to catch the kindling.  That may be a record for me.

     The meat got marinated (not long) in about a half-cup of cider vinegar with a couple of tablespoons of soy sauce and Worcestershire, a couple tablespoons of hot dog relish and a couple of tablespoons of spicy brown mustard, plus a little black pepper, Bragg's herb mixture, dash of curry powder and smoked paprika and some parsley.  That's not a lot of marinade -- a large ziplock freezer bag with air squeezed out makes the most of it, and I poured the marinade into the pan when I set the meat on the rack.

     Once the coals were smoldering, I spared them into two piles along the sides of the grill and loaded the meat onto a rack in my oval roasting pan, with a box of chicken-mushroom broth almost up to the rack level.  I covered it with foil (the lid is too high to fit the grill) and let it get started while I peeled a turnip and a Cosmic Crisp apple and cut them into thick slices and quartered them, with a little more paprika and oregano on the turnips and garam masala on the apple (it smells like apple-pie spice, but has a little more zing on the palate).  The meat was going to get an hour per pound, about three hours and twenty minutes.

     I added the turnip and apple after the roast had been cooking for about a half-hour; you want the apple to cook right down and turnips are slow-cooking.  Next up, about an hour and a half in, was a layer of sliced spring onions, parsnips, carrots and fennel bulb.  The parsnips need a light peeling and are cut into good-size sections; the carrots I buy are peeled and cut into sections an inch and a half long, ready to go.  I washed, sliced and cut up the fennel bulb, adding a few of the feathery fronds.  The stalks are woody, better cooked in a mesh bag to add flavor and removed, but I didn't mess with that.  I added the vegetables and covered the pan back up.  By then it was bubbling and starting to smell pretty good.

     Tam had picked up a basket of assorted exotic mushrooms -- a big King, clusters of gray oyster and hen-of-the-woods or maitake.  I washed and cut them up, and added them to the pan with a little over an hour of cooking time left.

     The end result was moist pork that was falling-apart tender with lots of flavor, and the vegetables were wonderful -- Tam went back for seconds of the veggies.  It didn't need any seasoning except for the least pinch of salt, and that wasn't really necessary.  Savory, earthy and with just a hint of apple-sweetness, I think it turned out as good as any of my pork roasts.

     Most of the cooking consists of just letting the grill do the work.  I ran a weed-trimmer along part of the back yard fence between prepping and adding vegetables, a chance to spend a little outdoor time while staying active enough to keep warm.

Sneaky Ragù

      Last week, I tried a dehydrated "Lazy Food" one dish dinner, a Sicilian ragù with chickpea-flour rotini and vegetable-protein "meat" in a thick tomato sauce with peas.  I added a dab of real Italian sausage and a couple of sliced fresh mushrooms, which is an easy cheat to liven up this kind of thing.

     It wasn't bad, not at all, filling and a little spicy.  The chickpea rotini were surprisingly good; the dried peas...well, they never quite recover the original texture; they were a weak point.

     But as I ate, I thought about how I'd make a richer version.  The wheatless pasta worked, so I figured I'd keep that.  A little spiced tomato sauce with garden vegetables, a little ground beef and/or Italian sausage, canned or frozen peas.  But the sauce?  That was tricky.

     Ideally, such sauces are best made from scratch and simmered for hours.  I rarely have hours.  It was thicker than canned spaghetti sauce, and spicier, with a different flavor profile from Arrabbiata.  Elements of it were familiar....  There had to be some way to fake it!

     You can buy Moroccan Shakshuka sauce in little bottles; it's typically used to poach eggs* for a dish of the same name.  It's like a thicker version of the full-vegetable Italian tomato gravy, with a North African spice profile.  A bottle of that and a like-sized (small) bottle of Michael's of Brooklyn combine like someone hoped they'd get together, and when simmered with meat, mushrooms and peas, it's pretty much the same flavor as the dehydrated stuff, only better, and thick enough to stand a spoon in.

     Alas, the brand of chickpea rotini I bought took awhile to cook up in the sauce, and never had quite the right texture (there are a lot of different kinds).  But the end result was good nonetheless.

     I served it for dinner tonight.  Tam's not a big fan of peas, and wondered if zucchini might not be a good replacement for the peas and noodles.  I'm pretty sure it would work just fine, since zucchini is used in many closely related dishes.  So we'll try that next time.  It's still a low-prep, quickly-cooked meal, and a change from the usual.
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* There's an Andalusian version that adds both chorizo and serrano ham to the spicy tomato sauce and eggs, which sounds like an amazing breakfast to me.  The Moroccan tomato sauce is less expensive than the brands of Italian-style sauces I like, and can be thinned down to the same consistency with a little added plain tomato sauce.  I keep small cans of the plain stuff on hand all the time -- it's useful and stores well.

Critique Group

     The critique group I chair met this morning, and I continue to enjoy the level of talent the members have, both natural gifts and a willingness to put in the hard work of turning a string of interesting ideas into an engaging story.  There's a fair amount of skull sweat involved, and like the lovely swan gliding across the smooth surface of a pond, there's considerably more thrashing around taking place under the surface than you'd ever expect.

     The members of the group are putting in the effort and their stories and chapters show it.  Going over their manuscripts with an eye open for what works and what needs work is an education in and of itself.

Kerosene Burners

     The war between the United States, Israel and Iran has bumped up fuel unavailability and prices.  Some of it it is easy to understand: crude oil is traded globally, and tends to flow to where the dollars are.  Gasoline works the same way, and a lot of that crude oil input comes out the other end of the refinery as gas for your car.  We expect diesel to work the same way, and mostly it does, but there's a catch.

     See, diesel's down at the heavy end, with jet fuel, kerosene and home-heating oil (and past that to bunker oil, the tarry stuff they burn in big ships and old steam locomotives that didn't run on wood or coal).  And much of that gets "pre-bought" in bulk.  Airlines especially prefer to hedge their bets by buying months and months of jet fuel in advance (it's rarely a bad bet that fuel prices will go up over the long term), and a lot of it gets refined not too far from the source -- which for a lot of Europe, is in the Middle East, and you'd never, ever guess where those refineries are.... No, I'm kidding.  Of course they're located around or near the Strait of Hormuz.  There's not a lot of jet fuel refining capacity within the EU itself.  Why should they bother when Middle Eastern countries are happy to host those big, smelly, polluting refineries?  The answer to that question is coming home to roost.

     Jet fuel is a knotty problem.  The airlines have already bought it; it just can't be delivered.  And the refineries away from the conflict zone that are set up to make jet fuel are well able to make diesel -- which is not a clunky bulk-sold-in-advance market, and where the free flow of fuel to where prices are highest* leaves companies chasing after a distribution network and customers who are, however unhappily, already set up for and accepting of highly variable prices.

     Meanwhile, the economics of airlines are screwy.  Outside the U.S., many of the largest carriers are subsidized by their governments, instruments of national prestige as well as effective transportation.  By some measures, the U.S. airline industry as a whole never makes a profit: there are few losers every year, often cannibalized by their peers or propped up by past earnings, a handful of winners, and the rest break even.  Disruption in fuel supplies throws a wrench into this tipsy balance -- and prolonged disruption tosses in a stick of dynamite after it, the fuse fizzing.

     You will note an absence of hand-wringing assignment of blame.  Sure, Donald Trump's a bull in a china shop on his best days, his Secretary of Defense is a bloodthirsty pinhead with a weird take on religion, and the majority of Congress is a craven bunch of spineless losers being led around by the nose (not to mention the pompous ambition and negative charisma of the Vice President, which I won't) -- but the Middle East is a powder keg with a load of lit candles on top.  If it wasn't Mr. Trump's "splendid little war," it would be some other war in the region, and if it wasn't right now, it would happen next week, or next month, or next year.  It's going to happen, and it's going to keep on happening, as long as a politically unstable region produces such a large amount of the crude oil and its refined products that our entire civilization runs on.  The network of global trade in oil cannot be disassembled by any amount of domestic production: oil will always flow towards money.  Smart politicians would be working to reduce dependence on oil, especially as a primary energy source; this is the only controllable variable.  And guess what?  Our politicians are no smarter than the rest of us -- and our business leaders may be even less so.

     Get ready to ante up.  Again.  And if you were planning to fly anywhere soon, better count pennies.

     Update: The Strait of Hormuz is now, according to the Trump administration Iranian government, "completely open."  We'll see if everyone with a practical veto agrees -- but don't expect the worst parts of the mess to magically clear up overnight even if it's olly-olly-oxen-free.

     Further Update: No, it's a day later and the Strait is closed again.  And apparently the U. S. blockade -- as opposed to the Iranian closure -- never stopped.  They can keep this up all year folks, and they might.  This doesn't bode well for the price of pretty much everything.
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* This simplistic formulation ignores that it's a gradient, with high prices but excellent supply at one end and lower prices but low supply at the other.  The U.S. is (on average) rich, and if you've got the bucks, fueling up the Benz is no problem no matter what it burns.  A Third-World farmer might not even be able to find any to buy.  In between, countries are rationing fuel, requesting or requiring people work from home, asking "Is this trip really necessary?" and taking other economizing measures.  And airlines?  If things go on, some of 'em are going to get grounded, or go under altogether.
 
† Still the name of it.  Congress named it and only Congress can rename it, which they have not.

He Said What?

     It would have been inconceivable to my parents: a Republican Vice-President, speaking at a conservative group's event and addressing in passing a war in Europe started by and serving the cause of Russian territorial expansion said, "... a Ukrainian American [...] person got really agitated at me because I was saying we should stop funding the Ukraine war. And I still believe that, obviously, and it’s one of the things I’m proudest that we’ve done as an administration, is we’ve told Europe if you want to buy weapons you can, but the United States is not buying weapons and sending them to Ukraine any more."

     The war in Ukraine slogs on, with Ukrainian innovation and yes, great heaps of weapons made in the West turning the dogged Russian advance into a meatgrinder, holding it and sometimes even turning it back.  It's one of the most impressive defenses ever mounted by a smaller country against a larger one in conventional warfare since the Winter War between Finland and, well, what do you know? -- Russia.  And that one only lasted three months.  Like every war they've been involved in, the Russian strategy consisted of throwing soldiers into the volcano, which is what they're still doing in Ukraine.  I guess it works until you run out of soldiers.

     Whatever one's opinion of the war in Ukraine, stopping Russian aggression seems like it would serve the best interest of the West.  And the war is very much a territorial war, a war of chess or of Go.  We know what both sides want and we know what counts as victory.

     Elsewhere, the VP has signed on, however reluctantly, to a war with much murkier objectives.  The last I knew, the U. S. and Iran were still running different blockades of the Strait of Hormuz and both declaring some form of victory.  Iran wants to keep on being a thorn in the side of the Middle East; the U.S. government wants....  It varies, depending on who you ask, and when.  I don't think anyone outside Iran wants them building nuclear weapons, though there's not broad agreement on the best way to prevent it.  The President might want regime change, but so far all he has managed to do is trade one collection of hardliners at the top for another collection of them, with less experience and more reason to despise us.  All anyone can be sure of is that fossil fuel prices are going up,* the stuff is getting scarce in places that relied on the LNG, crude oil and fuel that was carried through the Strait, and fertilizer and diesel fuel are in short supply and more expensive just as farms in the Northern Hemisphere enter planting season.

     If this is winning, then how much worse is losing?  I don't know; I do know the (small) crowd at the Turning Point, USA gathering the Vice President came to address were booing him over it, which is kind of like going to watch your hometown baseball team and throwing tomatoes at them.  On the domestic front, that's nowhere even close to winning.
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* Although there's starting to be some reduction in demand, for reasons that are mostly unsettling.

Deserts Of News

      At one time, it was easy to be awash in news: pretty good newspapers, five-minute radio newscasts -- even the screamin' Top 40 stations on AM and blissed-out album rock on FM had two-minute news capsules once an hour, while their pointy-boots country and suit'n'tie middle of the road peers handed out five whole minutes of network news that covered the world, often alongside another five of state and local material from their own newsroom.  (The "elevator music" stations might or might not have much news -- often very little, since it got in the way of being radio wallpaper.)

     It wasn't in-depth detail and analysis, and you rarely got hard-hitting exposés unless a politician got caught in the wrong bed and/or with a finger in the till, but it was useful, solid stuff, wars and plane crashes, sports scores and election results.  Opinion was clearly labeled and set apart from news coverage -- the editorial page of the paper, or the station owner or general manager gruffly complaining what a terrible idea the new bypass highway was, avoiding car-dealer row.*

     You could glance over the paper as you ate your cornflakes or Cream of Wheat; you could let the radio play while you washed up and got ready for work.

     Our local paper went to the dogs a long while back.  I held on as long as I could -- the catboxes need lining! -- but it kept getting thinner (especially of local news) and subscription rates kept going up, and by the time it was ten times the price of the same amount of blank newsprint, I dropped it.  Radio news -- well, there's NPR.  Their hard-news coverage is a lot more balanced than claimed by their detractors† and you can get 'em via podcast.  That "podcast" part is important, because while over-the-air NPR morning shows have more news content than commercial network TV, there's still a lot of feature fluff and it can get annoying: "The world is at the brink of war and/or recession -- but first, twenty minutes with the woman reintroducing stoats to London." Look, it's lovely but it doesn't affect the price of gas, okay?  I can call up the podcast and let it play actual news while I do dishes.

     On opinion stuff, I balance NPR with The Bulwark, mostly staffed by ex-Republicans repulsed by Mr. Trump's remaking of their party.  The downside -- and why that's not a live link -- is that their content is hosted by Substack, which is still "neutral" on things like Nazis, neo-Nazis and Andrew Tate.  You don't stop evil by closing your eyes and pretending it's just as good as anybody else's honest opinion.

     And that's the other thing about those old newspapers and local radio stations: they stuck to a narrow line, a consensus about decent behavior.  They might lean Right or Left (mostly Right, with those Democrats and hippies at the album rock station and the afternoon paper as exceptions), but they all agreed Nazis were bad, the Soviet Union was bad, abusing women was bad, elections were honest and politicians bore watching.  It wasn't much (and sometimes it was more talk than action), but more and more, it looks like The Good Old Days.
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*The symbiotic relationship between small-to-medium market radio stations and their local car dealers was deep and profound.  You could tell the #2 or #3 station in town, because the GM drove a Lincoln instead of a Cadillac. None of 'em drove Chryslers except for the sales guy who had that account.
 
† Ad Fontes rates NPR News Now almost dead center, a little to the right of conservative-leaning The Hill, and they provide examples.

Dire Strait?

      Let's see -- we approached the weekend with Iran declaring the Strait of Hormuz was closed -- unless you handed them a million dollars, and weren't on a short list of enemies.  We've exited the weekend with the President of the United States declaring the Strait of Hormuz is closed, but only to vessels headed for or leaving an Iranian port (and presumably any Iranian-flagged ones, though I don't know if they've got any big tankers).  The Strait has been a battleground (battlesea?) for a long time.

     In either case, it's a lot easier to close a narrow waterway than to keep it open.  Commercial ships don't fare well in a battle -- see the North Atlantic in World Wars One and Two for examples -- and will avoid them if given the option.  All it really takes is a motorboat with a crew shooting shoulder-fired missiles while dodging big Naval vessels.  I think very highly of the U.S. Navy, but they're like elephants facing a cloud of gnats, and I'm not sure they brought enough flyswatters.  I'm quite certain Iran has brought enough crazy for the task.

     I don't know how things play out if (when?) a Chinese-flagged tanker decides to play chicken for a load of Iranian oil.  Who wants to gamble with those kind of stakes?

     We might find out.  Meanwhile, the President appears to be picking a fight with the Pope.  Historically, the Holy See is the side to bet on.  As the oldest center of power in the West, Rome has outlasted every government that presented opposition, and looked on while a few of them were stomped flat.  You may well argue the Pope is not his Church -- but the relationship is modeled after that of a Roman paterfamilias to his family, nearly absolute rule.

     Interesting times.  I wish we were not experiencing such interesting times, but so has most of humanity, for most of our existence.  Excitement is a bane, dullness a luxury.

New Phone, Who Me?

     For years, I carried an iPhone, mostly for work and web-browing, and an Android that was on another carrier that had all my family contacts.  Its predecessor was my "Mom phone," with a distinctive ringtone for her calls and mostly used for only that purpose.  I'd bought the replacement online, without having held it.

     That was a mistake: it was too big.  The touchscreen worked differently in small but annoying ways.  I missed text messages often.  Eventually, the screen got cracked, and cracked again, including a really nasty divot.  (I'll say this for screen protectors, though: it took a lot of impacts and even after the screen started breaking, the protector held it together well enough.)  And then it stopped taking a charge.  The frame was bent, too, and when I coaxed it to turn back on, the OS had crashed.  The phone was over six years old.

     There matters sat for over a month.  I kept putting off taking it back to the phone store and then realized I could just move the SIM card.  There's a reputable secondary market in cell phones, and maybe I could find something decent....

     Yesterday, I fired up a refurbed iPhone SE, one of the recent models, and since I had my contacts stored on the card, they popped right up.  It's what I think is the right size for a phone (YMMV) and it mostly does what I expect.  The only touchy thing was moving the card over without touching the contact side -- or sneezing while I did the job.  It's different enough to my work phone that I can tell them apart, and similar enough that I'm not having to code-switch when moving from one to the other.

A Reminder

     I am not obliged to publish every comment I receive, and I don't.  If you have an argument with something I have linked to, go to the source and argue with them -- I am not their proxy.

     Invidiousness will not be rewarded, either.  Snark might be, but my judgement of it is arbitrary.  Yes, I am probably a terrible, terrible person, but I manage to live with it.

Fatal Ignorance

      Perhaps the most infuriating thing for me over the last decade is watching my country turn away from expertise and embrace ignorance as a virtue.  I'm far from the only one who has noticed, and this piece from a highly-qualified science guy and American-by-choice is so worthwhile that I'm making an exception to not using anything from their hosting site.

I'm Sorry, Who?

      When word came yesterday (or was it the day before? Time moves quickly when governments are flirting with genocide) that Vice-President James David "JD" Vance* was going to Pakistan to negotiate with Iran and Israel, I was shocked.

     Politics aside, he seems like a poor choice.  It's not that he isn't smart; I'd stack him up against nearly anybody in Jeopardy or solving brain teasers.  It's not that he isn't well-educated; a Yale lawyer with a BA in PolySci and Philosophy from Ohio State and a USMC military journalist before that has indeed soaked up a few things.  It's not even that he isn't experienced; the rise from Ohio poverty through military service to an elite university is a path sure to give a wide overview of the human experience.

     Nope, the problem is one of personality.  JD Vance can be an arrogant ass.  He usually comes across as condescending.  At best, he's patronizing.  And hey, maybe people like that.  It seems like the kind of attitude GOP voters look for in a leader.  But it's the last thing you should bring to the negotiating table.  It's A-okay to be hardnosed.  Pride is pretty much a given, especially pride in one's country.  You can even believe you're the smartest guy in the room -- but you can't talk down.  You can't lay down unilateral pronouncements and then bow up when the other side challenges them.

     I'm not a big fan of Marco Rubio, but he knows how to play this game.  Send him.  Send someone who has the right skill set!  MAGA is at least as full of hectoring lecturers as the Dems are at their most nannying, but they can still scrape up a few people who know how to play euchre without annoying the other side so badly they flip the table over and go home.

     Or is that the whole point?
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* Born James Donald Bowman.

Missed One

     I should have known better, but I skipped posting yesterday: if it was going to be the start of WW III, there was no point, and if it wasn't -- well, here I am.  It wasn't.  That was always the most likely outcome, but in recent years, I've become skeptical of the odds; it feels as if we're always on the edge of Heinlein's "The Year of the Jackpot."

     No three-lemons sour payoff yet.  Humanity has spent most of our existence dancing on the edge of a volcano but I swear, some of us are starting to get into deliberately jostling everyone else.

It's Spring

     Rather than belabor the horrors and outrages of the current war, or the "interesting" leadership, I will instead point to the lovely Spring we're having.  It still gets pretty chilly; there's even a freeze warning out for tonight, though only barely.  But the yard is thick with unusually large dog-violets and Spring Beauty, not to mention a few ambitious dandelions, and some other wildflowers are sneaking in.  The bees are already at work, which is why I haven't gone after the dandelions yet -- they bloom early, and give the bees a good start until the fancier flowers bloom.

     Elsewhere, we've had four people out beyond the Moon.  They're on the return leg now, and I wish them every success.

     There's apparently a fortune waiting for the person or group who invents a reliable, small, low-mass microgravity toilet: the current mission is having trouble with theirs, the crew of last long-duration Dragon flight pretty much gave up on the one aboard in favor of more primitive arrangements, and WCs on the various space stations are large, awkward contraptions that nobody's going to stuff into a spacecraft smaller than a Winnebago.  This may end up being a good reason to pursue spinning "wheel" type space stations or large O'Neill cylinders: aside from Coriolis Effect, the plumbing operates normally.  For short-duration spaceflight, there's always the Russian solution: eat small, low-bulk meals for a couple of days before, make a pit stop prior to boarding, and exercise willpower until you arrive.  Come to think of it, that was my Dad's theory for vacation travel, too.

No, As In No

     Not just no, but hell no.

     A young man knocked on the front door yesterday.

     "I'm a student?  At IU?  I'm majoring in entrepreneurship, and I noticed the paint on your house could use a touch-up--"

     "Thank you for stopping by.  Goodbye."

     Look, if I want my house painted and I can't do the job myself, I'll hire a house-painter, not a entrepreneur.  What I want is someone, or a small firm, who has been painting houses well enough and long enough to earn a living at it, not someone who is studying how to separate fools from their money and will try anything that looks plausible to do so.

     Don't lead with "entrepreneur."  That isn't the right pitch.  Customers are interested in results, not motivations.

     Back in the old days, house painters tended to be drinkers or users of other substances.  You looked for guys with a few daubs of paint on them, not too shaky, not too skinny, and you looked for a clear and somewhat overbearing boss; or you hired family members.  If you were lucky, they mostly showed up on time, mostly were still able to do the job after lunch, didn't steal and didn't leave a mess.  You were usually better off supplying the paint unless they had a really good reputation.

     There is no "entrepreneur" on that list.  It's not a hugely profitable business.  Done honestly, it's a decent living for a small crew if they don't have much overhead.  Done dishonestly, it doesn't work out well for anyone -- crews get ripped off, customers get lousy paint jobs, bosses skip town with a rattly truck and a few supplies, to start over in the next town.

     I don't need to add in a kid looking to add to his resume, with no interest in the actual work and a head full of glib notions.

     A couple of my nephews are brilliant house painters when they have time.  They did the initial paint job on Roseholme Cottage a few years after I moved in and I'd love to have them back on the job.  It's unlikely.  They've got plenty of work at their day jobs.  I'm hoping to put a decent coat of heavy-duty outdoor primer on the windows and frames by myself this summer, and maybe touch up the trim.  Anything else will have wait.

Entertainment, We Got

      It turns out if you go looking up an SF writer from the golden age (and it's always somebody's golden age in SF), you might get an unexpected bonus.

     William Tenn was one of the best humorists the genre has yet produced, from biting satire to gentle comedy.  In real life, he was Philip Klass,* electronics geek, technical editor and, later, a professor of English, teaching writing to a number of students who would go on to fame, or at least decent incomes.

     And one of his last published stories, On Venus, Have We Got A Rabbi! is a classic of at least two genres.  He read it on the radio back in 2002: his voice, and very much the voice of his narrator, a humble TV repairman.  On Venus.  A few hundred years in the future.  And oh, the trouble they have had there!

     Absolutely worth your listening time.  Or your reading, you'd prefer.
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* And not, as it happens, Philip J. Klass, aerospace and electronics geek and UFO debunker.  That's a whole other guy.