(0627) Morning all … still dark, not for long. https://orphansofliberty.blogspot.com/2025/01/the-last-thing-we-need-is-civil-war.html (0853)

 

9. Drum rolllllllllll … DAD at 945

8. Incidentally, this is coming up for li’l ole y’all

… sooner or later today … shape, size, compress, compose …

Guess what … just started retching, for real … not alcohol, might have been the new bread, new butter … yikes … came out of it … poor neighbours … on with the darth vader hooded robe … much better now and thanks for asking.

Which brings me to Katie Hopkins (don’t ask how it does but there it is). I feel sad for her … she’s trying so hard for a regular gig, flew herself to DC, interviewed no one special, people “tolerate” her style … gauche, potty-mouthed, even gross at times … poor gal has to make ends meet … look, she just doesn’t … um … ah … cut it with too many, except in small doses … a bit like me I suppose. Effusive gal (many men shudder to read that).

I wish her the best, truly … don’t know what to suggest … no Natalie Winters now. I’d prefer Katie within limits. Mind rambling now, so best shut it.

7. The Toodles one, then my nightmare

It was interspersed with other news but basically … there was a marching band, a college band and they were essentially busking for cash so they could feature in some Great Parade. Toods almost gave them … it was a sob story … but something kept her back.

Later, on TV, a marching band which I think was that one … it was on TV and as they marched off, all in the band made the same grubby sexual gesture … so, so far from any former lowest level of decency. A marching band used to be a marching band, end of. Maybe it was a gesture at Trump.

There are overtones of Sodom and Gomorrah here, where civic taste has slipped below the point of acceptable … to any middling sort of citizen … I mean you just don’t. The stage after that is going to be lawlessness and psychopathic do as thou wilt … and of course, the vulnerable are girls, kids, the elderly, those incapacitated … the vulnerable. To the soulless young bullies though, not unlike in William S Burroughs … nowhere and nothing is safe anymore against their pitilessness, for anyone.

My nightmare, a real one which I was able to escape … the govt, on a whim to restructure, at the stroke of a pen, had made living an impossibility for the average person … we have the pensioners as a model here but also something like this:

It’s from that town downunder whose football team I followed, lost interest now but its local rag I’m still subscribed to … it’s behind paywall now … no thanks, for the same reason this couple could not now. Too many want their greedy slices that the whole thing is now unviable.

What do they do? Well if they’ve been a bit careful … they retire in a far more straightened way but still doable. Plus there’s family of course, wanting rather than providing. Is blood thicker than water? One hopes so, though the ethics of that marching band makes me wonder … a nightmare in itself. And is it a normal, proper family of yore? Or one of these single mother and brats, me coming in to service her affair?

Now, praise be but my circumstances just now are not too bad … just do with less and stay in the black by constant deft moves to avoid potholes. However, in this nightmare, the govt stroke of a pen had redesignated something … nightmare had already started, so never quite discovered what.

Anyway, the unbelievable had occurred … all failsafes had fallen through … maybe they too had been caught out by the goalpost shifting. The man was on the street … he could have taken anything with him but how much can one man carry? And where? And night was falling. And illegals were everywhere, plus indigenous marauders, gangs (Clockwork Orange) and a lovely new expensive pack would be a prime target.

Obviously, the only way was on the water … but how? He did have some cash left but the bank had frozen his account. If he jumped through hoops online, he could access a bit of it, after explaining what he wanted it for. Nothing further had yet happened in the nightmare, nothing untoward, as he awoke and saw the Toodles email and Last Refuge, plus the local rag tale and here I am before you.

Got up to a heated abode, grabbed a bap and local butter rather than Lurpak any more, made the coffee, feet on plush rugs, phone pinged … they’re taking for a new bundle tomorrow … whole thing seems unreal after that nightmare … and yet I very much near lost my abode a couple of months back, in RL. Didn’t write about it.

Then there’s you … what of your circumstances? Could change just like that. Worrying time.

6. Sundance at Last Refuge or Conservative Treehouse

… had THIS:

“Like many of you I am absorbing the shock and awe evident in the planning of President Trump’s first day after his swearing in.  Sometimes there is just so much news from events, its best to just elevate, watch it all unfold and appreciate the full context of how these moments came to fruition.

So much to discuss, almost too much.  Meanwhile, in the background, you can see the furious shadows of those who operate in the opaque places, behind the glass.  The political calculations and lesser visible downstream effects of the Trump tsunami are happening in real time across a massive swath of offices, complexes and institutional silos.  That activity is where my focus remains.”

I do know what he means here … this was how I tried to write my long book, esp. near the end … big events were taking place out there, and certainly our ragtag observed, but the focus was on people in humble situations, dealing with the consequences of ‘that out there’.

Strangely, just having woken from a nightmare, Toodles reported on her experience (in 7 above).