How Can Climate be Predictable if Weather is Chaotic?

Election Day

Just returned from morning walk around the neighborhood with Jasper. 

An unfamiliar homeless guy was tottering silently around the dumpster for nearby apartments. He looked way, way gone. 

A woman was picking up her “Harris for President” signs that had been torn down and tossed. I told her I was pleasantly surprised that I hadn’t seen ANY Trump signs in the neighborhood this election season. “No one would dare put up a Trump sign in THIS neighborhood,” she replied, as she reassembled her signs. And it’s true, this is the bluest precinct in the entire city, with 90% of the voters typically voting Democratic. 

Jasper and I passed by the neighborhood voting location. Two women with the “Cofer for Mayor” campaign chatted with approaching voters just outside the 100 foot limit signs out front. Things looked orderly.

The Inimitable James Carville

@realjamescarville

Professional Truth Tellers 🤦‍♂️ @politicon_news | Get tickets to Matt Tyrnauer's documentary "Carville: Winning Is Everything Stupid" at CarvilleDoc.com/tickets or through the link in my bio 🎬🍿 #politicstiktok #politicalnews #political #documentary #jamescarville #carville #politics #news #carvilledoc jamescarvilledoc #carvilledocumentary #politicstiktok #funny #fyp #foryou #bts #behindthescenes #politicon

♬ original sound - James Carville

Elon Musk’s America PAC Door Knockers for Trump

The abusive conditions under which Elon Musk’s America PAC Door Knockers for Trump work under in Michigan. Somehow you just knew it was going to be this way:

Muldrow and the rest of her canvassing group of roughly a dozen people had just been fired en masse, after WIRED reported that they had been tricked and threatened as part of Musk’s get-out-the-vote effort. Speaking publicly for the first time about her ordeal, Muldrow says that the canvassers in her group were fired with little explanation beyond a complaint that someone had spoken with the press. Many, including her, were still owed money. Muldrow had to find her own way home; others are still stranded in Michigan.

Getting to the Essence of it All

Getting to the essence of it all. Someone I know once told me “People keep saying Trump is a racist, but I don’t see that at all.” The guy keeps skating.

@convosfromtennessee These two absolutely crush it when talking about “white privilege” and how we simply give Trump a free pass for all the terrible shit he says and does because of it, a pass that noone else could ever get. #moveon #kamalaharris #white #whiteprivilege #fame #wealth #genz #fyp #greenscreenvideo #vanlathan ♬ original sound - A-Aron

They Are After Me

Jasper and I walked over to V and 19th Streets this evening. Jasper was keen to explore the neighborhood beyond, called Newton Booth: new smells, new dogs, and an expanse of lawns never visited before. I pulled him back. “It’s just too far away,” I said. Despite his pleading we began returning home. 

Passing the Broadway light rail station, a woman approached and asked, “Can I walk with you? I was over by the Catholic store, and I’m worried about all these black men. They are following me! I should have gotten on that light rail train. Should I have gotten on that light rail train? Can we walk, maybe towards the McDonalds? They are after me.” (She seemed to have a kind of nervous, paranoid energy. I looked around. There were several black men nearby. They were all shuffling along while looking at their shoes and didn’t reveal or express the slightest interest in her. I said, “It looks pretty safe right here.”) 

“Can we pray?” she said, and paused for a few seconds of prayer. 

“You don’t understand,” she said. “I have an envelope with money in it. Five thousand dollars! They know I have it!” (I wondered how anyone might know she had lots of cash?) “They’ve taken my purse and my car and my belongings” she said. (Who are ‘they’?) “I need a place to stay. I was staying in two motels in West Sacramento, but all they had there was cold water. The Econo Lodge was better, but they wanted a deposit.” 

“A deposit? I’m afraid I can’t help. I don’t have any money,” I said. (And it’s true, I rarely walk Jasper while carrying a wallet.) “No, you don’t understand,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want anything like money. I need to explain. I wish I had my wig with me. I’m quite the good looker!” (Really? Something seemed up with her teeth.) “Maybe I should find a place to couch surf?” she said. 

She continued: “My father is a billionaire. A billionaire! But he doesn’t let me take out more than a hundred – no, fifty - dollars a day.” (“Oh, so he’s just parsing out the money,” I said.) “Yes!” she replied. (Then I got distracted, because parsing was clearly the wrong word. What is the right word? English has so many words. I must be tired. It’s all this walking to reveal to Jasper a tantalizing new neighborhood.) 

“My father is one of those corrupt billionaires,” she said. (“Ah, a corrupt billionaire. Not one of those straight-arrow billionaires,” I thought.) “Yes, he tried to kill me in prison!” (“That’s interesting,” I thought. “Was it her prison cell or his prison cell? Or were they both in prison together? And why? Maybe it was all that close company? It can drive anyone bonkers.”) 

“What I really need is a place to stay,” she said. “Can we pray?” (And she paused for prayer again.) 

“I’m afraid I can’t help,” I repeated. So, she walked off to wait for the light rail train, surrounded by various inattentive but I assume menacing black men, and Jasper and I headed in the opposite direction for home, clearly not fully understanding her plight. 

(The well of human need is infinitely deep.)

The Concept of a Landfill