Thursday, January 22, 2026

Christmas, Part 3 - Wisconsin

We had our last Christmas celebration on Sunday.

We’re a family that likes to stretch these things out, what can we say? I will admit that it was a bit more stretched than we’d planned since we were supposed to do this the previous Saturday, but the weather forecast looked snowy and Saturdays, it turns out, are not that great when you have multiple people who work as bartenders so it got pushed back a week.

Naturally it snowed Sunday too. But nobody was bartending, so we had that going for us.

We all met at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, with me and Kim coming up from Our Little Town while Lauren and Shai drove in from Main Campus University. Oliver was already off at school and rather too far away for a quick visit so he was unable to make the event, but we have reached the point where we just try for the maximum number who can. Rory and Amy and most of their group were there, as were Justin and Christine, and we had a lovely time.

There is a certain pattern that happens at these events. For the most part we cycle between hanging out, eating, and gifts, and as far as patterns go it’s a pretty tough one to beat though given the prevalence of snacks laid out – heavy on the home baked cookies but not limited to them, of course – the line between eating and any of the other activities can be pretty thin.

Good food in good company – that’s the secret to life.

So we hung out for a while.









Eventually it was dinner time, which is a fairly amorphous sort of thing with this group since it involves a constant swirl of people sitting, eating, leaving, and being replaced by others doing the same thing so specifying a precise beginning and ending point is probably more trouble than it would be worth. It starts with the Call For Borscht and spreads outward from there into a feast of Ukrainian food and if you left hungry well whose fault was that?





This was followed by the gifts given to those who were not playing the Dice Game, which is mostly the younger children and Uncle Randall these days. It was a joyous swirl of paper and things and a good time was had by all, even those who had remained at the table to fill in the edges a bit.

















This was followed by further hanging about because we could.







And then it was time for the Dice Game. This started years ago as a way for the people in my generation on both sides of the family to cut down on the chaos of Christmas shopping and has since become something of a rite of passage. Only the younger kids do the regular gifts these days – when you’re old enough, you’ll play the Dice Game. And play it we did, with abandon.





















You never really know what you’re going to end up with when you play the Dice Game and that’s most of the fun. Also, it’s nice when people like the stuff you brought. I was pretty happy that the gifts I brought got traded for a few times. After the dust settled I gave away both of the things I ended up with to people who wanted them more which at this point in my life is a good way to end the game really.

This was, of course, followed by more hanging out.





Though not too much more, since we had to get home. Lauren and Shai came back as well since she had an appointment the next day that was easier to get to from our house than from Main Campus University. The snow had mostly but not entirely ended for the drive home and while it was a sloppy drive (and Kim and I had to stop to get more washer fluid about halfway home) we all got back without changing the shape of anything on the road.

We ended up in the living room for a while, just sitting and talking and sampling the ginger and hops flavored mead that I had received for my birthday from a friend. It was very tasty, and a nice way to end a good day.

Monday, January 19, 2026

Time and Tide

My dad would have been 87 today.

He’s been gone for almost a decade now. There are still days when I think of things that I’d like to tell him, mostly little things like finding a wheat cent in change or going over whatever the Eagles did in their most recent game. We didn’t have any big things left unsaid, after all.

The ghosts accumulate as you get older.

My grandmother – my dad’s mother – died forty years ago exactly, a hell of a birthday present for my dad when you think of it. My other grandparents both died in 2000. My mom died a bit over four years ago. Julia’s been gone for over a decade.  Uncle Ed. Mr. and Mrs. Watts. A small but growing list of UCF friends. Various colleagues. Some old friends. Some new. So many people. Time and demographics only flow in one direction, and all we can do is be there for the time we have with those we care about.

You think about these things more with each passing birthday.

And each year there are new people to hold in your life as well. Family. Friends. Even just passersby who take a small moment to share some humanity. It’s a cycle.

It’s been a while now and for as long as there are people who remember he will be with us still. I do my best.

Happy birthday, Dad.





Saturday, January 17, 2026

One Less Task, More Or Less

I spent this morning not grading essays. It was nice.

Most of my Saturday mornings since 2019 have been devoted to the Never-Ending Online Class, which I signed up for because I’m an adjunct instructor who has managed to cobble together a career in academia without a tenure-track job and you don’t do that by saying no to offers when they come by. The first thing you learn as an adjunct is that the people who offer you jobs have a memory that has room for exactly one item and that item is whatever you told them the last time they offered you a job. If you say no to any offer, they will never offer you another thing again. So I’ve said yes to a lot of offers over the last few years and I’ve learned things I never thought I would know and managed to pay bills at the same time, so I suppose it’s worked out.

The Never-Ending Online Class works on a subscription model. Students sign up for a three-month period and they get access to the course. All of the material is already there on the website and they complete the course at their own pace. I grade the essays as they come in, provide feedback so they can do better on the next one, and answer questions as needed. I’m also required to have one hour per week of virtual office hours, to which not a single student ever came. These students will email if they have a question. Every month one cohort leaves and another comes in so there are always three different cohorts in the class. It runs year-round, every month new names on the screen.

When the previous instructor had to bow out of the class because his campus wouldn’t let him continue on with it, he offered it to me and I said “yes” because, as noted, that’s what you do as an adjunct.

And pretty much every Saturday morning since then I have fired up the Internet Machine wherever I was and graded whatever essays came in the previous week. I’ve graded essays on laptops in Philadelphia, New York, and Tennessee and on my phone in Italy, Portugal, and Hungary. Sometimes there have been two dozen essays to grade – all of them somewhere around 1000 words – and sometimes there have only been one or two. Once in a great while I get a week without them, but since 2019 I can count those weeks on my fingers.

You get to know the patterns. The class is set up with four units of three essays, and they have to do two from each unit for a total of eight. Some questions almost never get answered while others seem to appeal to every student. Most students submit work as they complete it so they can get the feedback for the next one, but some wait until the last minute to submit all eight, hoping for the best. If they submit all of them in the first week of the course, that’s usually a bad sign. So is doing the first eight assignments without bothering to check how many from each unit to do.

And each year the class would pay me somewhere around the equivalent of one or two adjunct classes, which was enough to cover bills and perhaps parts of vacations, but not enough to be the wealthy and powerful professor that so many elected officials seem to think I am. It was a nice gig that way.

But after six and a half years it was time to move on.

My kids are both in graduate school now, and we no longer have to save for college. The house and the cars are paid off. And I am at the point in my life where I wanted my Saturday mornings back.

Plus, AI has been a catastrophe and I got tired of reading essays that nobody wrote. Most students know better, but there are always a select few who think that outsourcing their brain to a hallucinating machine is an acceptable way to live, and that wears on a body after a while. There will come a day when everyone will regard AI with the same dripping contempt that we now reserve for diploma mills and industrial toxic waste producers but today is not that day. Tomorrow doesn’t look good either.

So I turned in my notice and as of the first of this year I am no longer the instructor for that course.

It turns out, though, that leaving the Never-Ending Online Class is about on par with leaving the Mafia since they have constantly been trying to pull me back into the life even though everyone involved is perfectly fine with me moving on.

I understand this, really I do. I fall through a whole pile of HR cracks in this system and trying to get anything done that involves HR has always been far more complicated than it should be. The Never-Ending Online Class is offered by one of the current iterations of the Online Campus (there are several) but for bureaucratic reasons that do make sense when someone explains them slowly enough my contract for that class was actually with R1 University. My advising job and most of my classes are at Home Campus and my US1/US2 Zoom class is at Far Away Campus, both of which are glommed onto larger campuses these days and many but not all of the HR decisions that affect me in those jobs come from the larger campuses rather than the ones I actually do the work for. Combine that with the fact that my advising job is a) grant-funded, which is a whole other kettle of weird, and b) considered “non-academic staff” rather than the “academic staff” category that my teaching jobs fall into and it gets complicated. I have so many different supervisors and provosts that even routine things can be tricky.

Three summers ago, for example, the folks who run the Never-Ending Online Class asked me to revise the course, which is something that they like to see happen every so often. I spent the summer doing that – reorganizing the web page, revising and in some cases replacing some of the essay assignments, and so on. The new version went live on October 1 that year. I’d been promised a small stipend to do all of this work, and at some point in September when they were sure I’d actually finish the job they started that process. The form required signatures from my immediate supervisor and the relevant provost. Which ones were those? Why, son, that’s a verrrrry interesting question, ain’t it? Yes, indeed, it was. Let’s just say that I didn’t get paid until nearly Christmas and leave it at that. At one point even the guy who hires adjuncts at Far Away Campus got involved, much to his bewilderment.

The new instructor taking over the Never-Ending Online Class officially started on January 1. We had a meeting in December with the guy in charge of the program to iron out the transition and I got the October cohort’s grades posted before I left, so it seemed like we were on the right track.

But I kept getting notifications for the course and students kept emailing me about things. I asked the guy in charge of the program to take me off the course, but it turns out he can’t do that. And IT said they couldn’t do that either. Eventually the R1 Campus IT folks said they could do it if the program made a formal request, so they did. That turned out to be incorrect. Apparently someone at R1 has to make this request. I’m not sure whether they have or not. So I just forward stuff over to my successor, ignore the notifications, and try not to think about Marlon Brando.

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

News and Updates

1. If you’re not absolutely incandescent with rage at the ongoing criminal rampage being conducted by Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump’s personal standing army of murderous dumbfucks all across the country but especially in Minnesota right now you really need to examine your life choices and figure out why they’re so morally diseased. This is an all-out assault on everything this country is supposed to stand for and we as Americans need to put an end to it good and hard.

2. Also, nice tyranny, bro. Still gonna need to see those Epstein files, though. You know, the ones that BY LAW were supposed to be released to the public in full two weeks ago but only 1% of them have been so far? Those.

3. Fuck ICE. Fuck everyone who supports ICE. And when that’s done, fuck them again but sideways. The Nuremberg trials that are going to follow the demise of this administration are going to be spectacular and I will pay good money for a ticket to watch the same outcomes happen.

4. In the meantime, life in my corner of the universe continues to move along. Just because I’m paying attention to my own life doesn’t mean I’m ignoring everything else. I can pay attention to multiple things at once! It’s a sign of intelligence, after all. I have many flaws, but stupid isn’t one of them.

5. We’re slowly gearing down from the holidays now. Our last Christmas was supposed to be Saturday but will instead be this coming Sunday, and we may or may not have the holiday decorations put away by then. We haven’t even started on our Christmas cards yet, but that’s nothing new. Maybe by Valentine’s Day.

6. I took Oliver back to his grad school apartment on Thursday night, a 5-hour drive through a monsoon so fierce that there were times when I wasn’t sure we’d get there. Sometimes you just go 35mph on the interstate because that’s all you can do. The new tires I put on the minivan last month have pretty much paid for themselves as far as I’m concerned. I spent some time banging around his town the next morning while he took care of some tasks and we had a lovely lunch afterward at the same ramen place we always seem to visit when I’m there. And then it was straight back to Our Little Town. The drive back was much less stressful, if rather lonelier. I got back just in time to go out again to see some friends who had just returned from New Zealand, and it was lovely but a long day.

7. Lauren is back up at her apartment as well, along with Shai. They came down Friday to go to a basketball game over at Local Businessman High because why not, though they did at least pop in with us to see our friends who’d just got back from their travels before taking my car back with them on Saturday so they can do a bit of exploring before Lauren’s classes start up. We’ll pick that up at some point soon, no doubt. We are back to being empty nesters. Sigh.

8. The semester is starting to gear up as well, with the usual meetings and tasks starting to come down the pike. I have not yet begun to get my class ready, but I figure I can do that at some point. I have LOADS of time! Sure thing, boss! LOADS!

9. I finished my first book of 2026 today, which is better than last year though still well off my usual pace for such things. I’m hopeful that this year I can get back on track with that, but I’m not putting money on it.

10. The Eagles will not repeat as Super Bowl champions, alas. The Packers have also been eliminated. The Flyers are actually doing well this year and might make the playoffs for the first time since lockdown. As for the Premier League, Wolves are pretty much a lock to be relegated but at least they’ve won a game this season now. Sportsball is a lovely distraction from things, and these are times that call for such things now and then.

Sunday, January 11, 2026

Of Standing Armies and Tyranny

The colonial reaction to the Stamp Act of 1764 shocked British government officials, and if you look at the reality of the situation it’s fairly easy to see why.

The Stamp Act was imposed by a British Parliament desperate to avoid bankruptcy after the Seven Years War – the last in a cycle of imperial wars against France dating back to 1689 – ended in 1763. The wars had left the Crown with a national debt of some £137,000,000 sterling at a time when a skilled craftsman (such as a plumber today) made about £50 a year. The annual interest payments alone on that debt would come to nearly £5,000,000 per year, almost 60% of Britain’s peacetime budget during the 1760s, and this situation would only get worse given the expense of maintaining and defending not only the English colonies already on the North American mainland but also the newly conquered French colonies as well, many of which were not happy about being incorporated into the British Empire. This required ten thousand British soldiers to be stationed in the colonial back country, an ongoing expense of some £400,000 per year.

This doesn’t even count the fact that the Native Americans on the western edge of these colonies were also deeply unhappy about the situation and had already tried once to change it – a bloody war the British called Pontiac’s Rebellion which destroyed eight British forts and killed about 2,000 colonists – and were quite likely to do so again.

George Grenville – the Chancellor of the Exchequer, what we would call the Prime Minister today – knew that he needed to take action quickly or the whole North American empire would collapse along with the British government. He got recently coronated King George III to approve the Proclamation of 1763 forbidding white colonists from moving west of the Appalachian Mountains in a move designed to calm down the Native American fear of having their lands taken from them. He authorized the Royal Navy to crack down on colonial smuggling in order to bring much needed customs revenue into the Royal Treasury.

And, among other things, he got Parliament to pass the Stamp Act.

The Stamp Act was a tax on paper. Under the act, colonists would be required to use stamped paper for everything from newspapers, playing cards and almanacs to deeds, wills, and contracts. Any legal document on unstamped paper would be considered void. The money raised would go toward paying the costs of maintaining the ten thousand soldiers out in the back country. Since the Americans were going to benefit most from those soldiers, Grenville reasoned, they could chip in for their expense and take some of the burden off taxpayers in Britain.

The colonists didn’t see it that way.

They argued that the Stamp Act was a new kind of tax – an internal tax on things produced and consumed within the borders of the colonies rather than an external tax on things coming into or leaving the colonies. External taxes were traditionally used to regulate trade, but internal taxes were used to raise money. Only colonial legislatures could levy internal taxes on the colonies, the Americans said. Colonists sent no representatives to Parliament and for Parliament to impose such a tax violated the principle of no taxation without representation. They argued that this tax was a crippling burden on colonists that would bankrupt them in the economic slowdown after the Seven Years War.

When the Stamp Act passed anyway, the colonists resisted. They passed resolutions denouncing it. They held an intercolonial congress to organize resistance. And across the colonies violent grass roots resistance so intimidated British officials that by the time the Stamp Act enforcement date came around in November 1765 only Georgia had anyone willing to enforce the law.

Grenville’s position was that none of the colonial arguments were correct, and objectively speaking he was absolutely right.

The Stamp Act was not an excessively high tax, let alone a crippling burden. None of the taxes imposed by the British government during the Revolutionary Crisis were excessive. The idea that the American Revolution was a revolt against high taxes is a 21st-century political agenda projected backwards onto the Founding Fathers by people who have never studied American history in any serious way. Nobody would have gone broke paying the stamp tax, and few people would have noticed it at all. This was not a society that lived on paper the way we do today.

Nor was the Stamp Act much of an innovation. It had been applied to British taxpayers on the home islands since the 1690s and there was no justification for the colonists – who were, after all, also British taxpayers – to complain that this was somehow new.

Furthermore, under British law, there is no legal distinction between an internal tax and an external tax and if Parliament had the right to impose one on the colonies it had the right to impose the other. And since under British law Parliament has the right to impose any tax anywhere in the Empire, it had the right to do this.

Yes, Grenville admitted, the colonists did not send representatives to Parliament, but then neither did a lot of towns in Britain. They were all “virtually represented.” All members of Parliament were responsible for all of the Empire, so the colonists were just as represented as a lot of people in England itself.

All of this is true.

And none of it mattered.

One of the great truths of human nature is that people do not react to what is going on around them. They react to what they think is going on around them, and these two things may or may not have anything in common.

Grenville was arguing about what was actually happening. The colonists were reacting to what they thought was happening. And to understand why they reacted the way they did, you need to know what they thought was happening.

American colonists in the 1760s overwhelmingly looked at their political world through the lens of classical republicanism, an ideology that disappears so thoroughly after about 1820 that few Americans today are even aware that it existed. This was not how the British generally looked at the political world in the 1760s. It’s a complex bit of machinery, but like most such things it can be boiled down to its essentials fairly quickly.

The fundamental idea behind republicanism was the zero-sum conflict between liberty and power. Power, said classical republicans, must be checked or it would destroy liberty. And the way to check power was to divide it up and then balance the pieces against each other so that no one group or person controlled all of the levers of power.

In the traditional view of republicanism, this meant balancing social orders. Society was divided into three groups – the One, the Few, and the Many – and each group got a branch of government. The One was the monarchy. The Few was the aristocracy. And the Many was the democracy, the legislature. As long as each branch of government stayed on its own turf and didn’t stomp on the others, then the government was balanced, power was checked, and liberty was secure.

This gets translated into the Federal Constitution of 1787 slightly differently, as balancing government functions rather than social orders. Instead of a monarchy we get the Executive Branch. Instead of an aristocracy we got the Judicial Branch. The legislature pretty much translated one to one, though.

The trick, though, was to keep the pieces balanced. If they got out of balance then power would destroy liberty, though they would do it in different ways depending on what piece got out of hand. If the Many, the legislature, got out of control you’d get Anarchy. If the Few, the Judiciary, got out of hand, you’d get oligarchy. And if the One, the Executive, got out of hand, you’d have tyranny.

Of these, the Founding Fathers feared tyranny more than the others because it was efficient, aggressive, and dangerous. Anarchy is pretty self-solving – eventually someone will take over, and while this usually means new problems it’s no longer Anarchy. Oligarchy is dictatorship by committee and really, how effective have any of the committees you’ve ever served on been? But tyranny – dictatorship – is historically the norm in human government, and it can be extremely difficult to fix once entrenched.

The Founding Fathers felt that there were a number of signs of approaching tyranny, but two that mattered most.

First, arbitrary – not necessarily high – taxes, imposed without the consent of the governed, which would weaken the power of the legislature, unbalance the government, destroy liberty, and cause economic harm to the tyrant’s enemies.

And second, a standing army in time of peace, accountable only to the One (or the Executive), which would run lawless through the streets to crush political opposition and impose tyranny.

And what did the colonists see in the Stamp Act? An arbitrary tax designed to pay for a standing army in time of peace.

Grenville did not see the world through republican eyes and was frankly shocked by the American reaction to the Stamp Act. What he designed as a small but necessary tax meant to ease the financial burden of defending the empire, the colonists saw as the leading edge of a dark conspiracy of British power to crush American liberty and introduce tyranny.

This was the origin point from which the American Revolution flowed.

In 2025, in one of the most gutless displays of cowardice and bootlicking ever put on in a public forum, Republicans in Congress passed what Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump insisted on calling The One Big Beautiful Bill.

There were a lot of features of this spectacularly misnamed piece of legislation that have already had catastrophic effect on the American people – it was a pretty good blueprint for how to dismantle a republic, after all – but one of the more obvious ones it that it boosted the budget for ICE to levels far beyond what most nations on this planet spend on their entire military.

ICE, for those of you who live in caves, is Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump’s private standing army.

It is not a law enforcement agency. They are not police officers, sheriffs, or federal criminal law enforcement. Their scope of legal authority is incredibly limited – they have the power to detain and arrest people suspected of being in the United States without proper documentation, but ONLY if they have clear probable cause or signed judicial warrants. They have no authority whatsoever over American citizens. They cannot arrest legal American citizens. They cannot detain legal American citizens. They have absolutely no authority to force entry into a vehicle. They have no legal right to invade homes without signed judicial warrants or to go door to door in fishing expeditions for people they wish to assault.

And they certainly have no right to execute anyone in cold blood on a public street.

Yet they have done all of these things and continue to do all of these things.

In 2025 they kidnapped American citizens and legal residents off the public streets, charged them with hallucinatory crimes, and trafficked them to foreign countries in defiance of court orders and American law. They murdered 37 people. They faced no legal consequences for these crimes, protected as they are by the Fascist regime in power right now. Their crimes are features, not bugs. They are doing precisely what Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump and his minions, lackeys, cronies, and slaves want them to do – trying to terrorize Americans into obedience through violence, lawlessness, and cruelty.

On Wednesday, January 7, 2026, one of their jackbooted thugs – Jonathan Ross, by name – executed an American citizen in cold blood on a public street.

He had no right to approach Renee Good’s vehicle. She was an American citizen on a public thoroughfare, trained as a legal observer and responsible for recording the crimes of Ross and his colleagues. Her right to be where she was was clear. He and his colleagues had no right to attempt to force their way into her car, despite their violent attempts to do so, or to order her to do anything whatsoever.

And when she attempted to comply with his illegal orders to drive away anyway, he had no right whatsoever to murder her.

There is no legal self-defense strategy here. He shot her three times – once from the front, and twice from the side after she had started to pass him. DHS policy explicitly bans agents from shooting into moving vehicles for any reason. She was unarmed and clearly trying to avoid him. There are multiple videos confirming every part of this, including one that ICE released thinking it would somehow support their version of events, which only goes to show you how twisted those goons really are.

ICE is a private standing army in time of peace, recognizing no authority other than an Executive gleefully stomping on the turf of the Judiciary and the Legislature. A tyrant, in other words, one eagerly and relentlessly destroying your liberty to further his power.

Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump and his minions, cronies, lackeys, and slaves have been flooding the airwaves with lies since before Renee Good was even extricated from her vehicle. They insist she was the one at fault, that their thug was in the right, and that anyone who suggests otherwise is some kind of terrorist.

They are lying, and anyone who supports them is a bootlicking slave.

They have taken the investigation out of the hands of the State of Minnesota and given it to their own lackeys. They refuse to share information. They plan to cover this up and they’re doing so in broad daylight while you watch. They insist that you swallow their lies rather than follow the plain objective evidence in front of you. They hold you in contempt, and their private army remains out of control, out of order, and in our streets.

The Founding Fathers did not put up with tyranny. They did not put up with standing armies running wild in the public streets, armies who answer not to the law or to the citizens but only to the tyrant and his minions. They started a revolution over this.

What will you put up with, my fellow American?

Be quick about it, because you may not have much time to decide before the decision is taken out of your hands.

As for me, I am a goddamned American patriot and I bow to no tyrant.

Tuesday, January 6, 2026

Treason, Five Years On

Five years ago today the United States was attacked by internal enemies.

For the first and only time in the history of the American republic, a sitting president refused to recognize the objective fact that he had lost a free and fair election in a landslide and insisted on finding ways to retain his clawhold on power. Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump spent the months between that election filing frivolous lawsuits (all of which he lost, even those that came before judges he himself had appointed), making ominous threats, and spinning ever more elaborate conspiracy theories about why reality couldn’t possibly be any different than his obscene fantasies.

Thanks to bipartisan Congressional hearings and multiple criminal investigations, we now know that Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump and his administration also spent those months actively planning to overthrow the legitimate government of the United States from the inside. This meets the Constitutional definition of treason, for which the penalties are well known.

In a recently released transcript from his testimony before Congress – testimony given behind closed doors at the insistence of Congressional Republicans terrified of what might be revealed, rather than openly to the American people as he had requested – Special Prosecutor Jack Smith stated under oath that “Our investigation developed proof beyond a reasonable doubt that President Trump engaged in a criminal scheme to overturn the results of the 2020 election and to prevent the lawful transfer of power.”

When asked about the violent insurrection of January 6, 2021, he stated that “our view of the evidence was that he caused it and that he exploited it and that it was foreseeable to him. … [I]n the weeks leading up to January 6th [he] created a level of distrust. He used that level of distrust to get people to believe fraud claims that weren’t true. He made false statements to State legislatures, to his supporters in all sorts of contexts and was aware in the days leading up to January 6th that his supporters were angry when he invited them and then he directed them to the Capitol. Now, once they were at the Capitol and once the attack on the Capitol happened, he refused to stop it. He instead issued a tweet that without question in my mind endangered the life of his own Vice President. And when the violence was going on, he had to be pushed repeatedly by his staff members to do anything about it.”

Further, he stated, “President Trump was by a large measure the most culpable and most responsible person in this conspiracy. These crimes were committed for his benefit. The attack that happened at the Capitol, part of this case, does not happen without him. The other co-conspirators were doing this for his benefit.”

In other words, Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump and his subordinates organized and carried out a deliberate attempt to destroy the American republic by replacing the duly elected incoming President with the disgraced loser of the election in November 2020, an act that would have turned the United States into a dictatorship.

The results of this conspiracy were broadcast live to the American people.

















Speaking as a historian with a PhD in the early American republic, the Founding Fathers would have had this problem resolved by sundown on January 7 and the nation and the world would have been spared a great deal of trouble had they done so. Unfortunately not only has Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump managed to escape the justice due to him, but also a plurality of voters decided that treason was not a disqualifying factor in a leader and installed him back into power last year – a catastrophic failure of American morality, patriotism, and intelligence.

There will come a time when this corrupt neo-Fascist clown and all of his minions, lackeys, cronies, and slaves will face justice.

It is justice long overdue, and it may not happen in my lifetime. But it will happen. There will come a time when everyone will say they were always against this.

In the meantime, I say to Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump and his minions, lackeys, cronies, and slaves, we do not forget.

We do not forgive.

We outnumber you.

We will be here when you are long gone and forgotten.

Sleep well.

Sunday, January 4, 2026

A Birthday Party, Somewhat Delayed But Fun Nonetheless

Once in a while you should have a party.

I’ve never really been a big fan of birthday parties, at least not when it comes to my own birthday. I like other people’s birthday parties just fine as far as they go – you get to hang out with friends, eat some tasty food, and generally have a good time – but for my own birthday I usually prefer to do such things with my family. We share a nice meal and enjoy each other’s company, maybe play cards or something along those lines, and that’s pretty much all I want, even on the Big Round Number birthdays.

But this year it occurred to me that pretty soon so many of the people in my world would be haring off in different directions and it would be hard to gather them all together in one place and time, so perhaps it would be good to do something to mark my most recent birthday.

Of course I didn’t decide that until it was far too late to do anything about it on or near my actual birthday, embedded in the holiday season as it is. Fortunately the Movable Feast Tradition allows me to schedule holidays whenever they are convenient, so yesterday it was.

After some discussion Kim and I decided that it would be fun to do this at the local axe-throwing place, since who doesn’t like throwing axes at the wall? This place also has throwing knives and ninja stars, which are more fun and much easier to stick into the wall – it’s actually difficult not to get a throwing star to stick – so win all around, I say.

Plus this place doesn’t serve food, which meant that they were happy to let us bring our own.

We gathered last night and had a very nice time.

We got there a bit early to get set up before people arrived. The place is fairly small but it was big enough for what we wanted to do and it had four different bays for throwing pointy things on our side of the wall. You can’t ask much more than that.





They did provide one other game as well – you get a box of big nails and a heavy hammer and anyone who wants to join in takes a turn at pounding their nail into a tree stump with the skinny end of the hammerhead, one swing at a time, until someone wins. I actually did pretty well at this one, a legacy of my misspent youth building sets backstage, I suppose.









Axes, knives, and stars were indeed thrown though not in any real competitive fashion that I saw. Mostly it was just people enjoying the task at hand and that’s all you need.















I’m not entirely sure how I managed to do it, but I did get one of the knives to stick in by the hilt rather than the pointy bit.





Mostly, though, people hung out and spent time together, which is all you want of a party.





















They even sang happy birthday to me before we dove into the cakes, which was lovely.





The joy of doing this somewhere other than your home is that all of it happens outside of your home, which means a whole lot less preparation and cleanup. Our friends Heidi and Travis did join us at home afterward for a bit, which was very nice, but eventually they too went home and it was just me, Kim, Oliver, Lauren, and Shai hanging out in the living room and following the conversation wherever it went.

Why it went to “strange sporting events” I don’t know, but that eventually led to us watching this year’s Florentine Calcio Storico, a collection of Red Bull Flugtag videos, and somebody’s compilation of the top 100 World Soap Box Derby runs, and in a darkening age it is good to have something that is pure absurdity now and then.