Haunt my dreams

The Washington Post reported yesterday that back in February, SecDef Pete Hegseth took a hankering to a globe that was allegedly used by Dwight D. Eisenhower during World War II. Because there’s nothing Whiskey Pete loves more than the trappings of glory.

Well, maybe also borrowed military success. He’d probably like that, too.

(Kegsbreath apparently has a jones for WWII. It's a subject of jokes and memes within the Pentagon. I honestly don't know which side he roots for.)

Plus—booze. I don’t know whether he’s fulfilled his promise while undergoing Senate confirmation that, if appointed, he would stop drinking, but it’s really astonishing that a nominee for Cabinet office had to make the problem in the first place. And that he would be confirmed afterward.

Anyhow—this being the kleptocratic administration, Hegseth couldn’t wait for historians and curator-level movers to relocate the antique artifact, so Pentagon schlubs—I don’t know—picked it up to carry it wherever, and they dropped it. And it was damaged.

(Photos acquired by WaPo.)

Naturally the Pentagon is keeping shtum about the debacle and Hegseth isn’t responding to requests for comment. But, really, the metaphor for this entire administration and every Republican in office could not be more clear.

So my earworm for today is one of the all-time favorites of WWII, on both sides of the conflict, “Lili Marlene”. And here’s Marlene Dietrich singing it. (Dietrich had more courage and steelier cojones than every Republican in office.)

 

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

 

Really wrong list

I do not know what mailing list I got on, or how, but in addition to the “help my dad” solicitation from Mattie (Paxton) Hayworth, a couple of times this year I’ve been sent the Ronald Reagan Ranch calendar for 2027.

Along with an invitation to make a donation to “help save the ranch”.

I’ve loathed Reagan and his brand of politics since he was governor of California. The day I voluntarily give money to any cause with even a whiff of Reagan about it is the day giant cracks appear in the earth’s surface and the sun does not appear in the sky.

So—no.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

What a load of

Welp, this arrived the other day:

Four pages of probably AI-generated drivel about what a great father Ken Paxton was. Ken Paxton, Republican Attorney General of Texas impeached on corruption charges that really never plumbed the depths of his crookedness. An AG who brokered a plea bargain deal with a (white, Republican Christian) facing charges of repeatedly raping a boy, which saw the accused serve 30 days in jail and returning to the practice of law. Divorced by his wife of decades on “biblical grounds”. World traveler with his mistress and owner of properties in the double digits in multiple states (including a “vacation lodge” in Oklahoma, which I frankly do not get because who vacations in Oklahoma?). Who stole another man’s $1000 Mont Blanc pen from a security bin and only returned it when the theft became public.

In short, an all-around holder of true Republican values, and therefore of course endorsed by the Kleptocrat.

But Mattie (Paxton) Hayworth assures me that Paxton showed her “what faith looks like when it’s actually lived out”, because he read the Bible every morning and prayed with her. (That image frankly gives me the jim-jams.) She says that when she “went looking for a husband” she “found a man just like him” and that really creeps me out. She points out that as AG Paxton sued the Biden administration more than 100 times and defended Texas’ anti-abortion laws up to SCOTUS. She doesn’t point out that his success put hundreds of Texas women at medical risk because medical providers are afraid to deal with life-threatening complications of pregnancy in the face of being sued and shut down.

And of course she asks for money, to help Paxton face those mean, radical Democrats who want to give Texans and everyone healthcare, a solid education, a good quality of life and a secure environment maintained by the rule of law. (I paraphrase—she left off the last part.)

Well, all I have to say is: boy, did you get the wrong mailing list, hon.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

 

You in danger, girl

I was struck by this arrangement in someone’s front yard yesterday morning:

That little orange pumpkin looks like it’s in trouble.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Gratitude Monday: Splashes of color

Ah, we are finally in Autumn. Humidity has crashed and mornings are crisp but not frosty. And, finally, leaves in my part of the People’s Republic have begun to turn.

It’s interesting to me that they seem to be changing color only in patches on trees, not swathes. I don’t recall this pattern in years past, but I find the reds and golds blooming amongst the vibrant green of a tree beautiful.

And that’s today’s gratitude.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

That was just a lie

You know—given the Kleptocrat’s ramping up his lies in the runup to the midterm elections, I’ve been hearing one of the classics in my head for the past few days.

I mean—in between him dozing at meetings in the Oval Office and being unable to complete a thought (or remember the name(s) of the candidate(s) he’s in town to “support”) due to advancing dementia, he just spews porkies about the economy, about how he should have received the Nobel Peace Prize at least eight times, about winning/having won the war in Iran, about the bloody 2020 election, about acing a cognitive test he seems to be required to take every time he sees a doctor, about the qualifications of his new blonde press secretary. His lie-to-breath ratio is rapidly approaching 1:1.

(He did extrude one truthy statement when he told his audience in Alaska that he could say all kinds of stupid things and they’d clap like trained seals [I paraphrase], whereupon they all clapped like trained seals [actual fact].)

So of course the earworm for today is “You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hound Dog”, sung here buy a guy named Elvis Presley. So, so many truths in these lyrics.

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

 

Matters theological

Here’s something for everyone to ponder:

That’s it. That’s the post.

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Moving messages

This car has a lot to say:

I think it was in the Whole Foods parking lot, which kind of tracks. My attention was grabbed by the Jesus sticker, on account of it being directed at all the evangelical Christian white nationalists who apparently stopped reading the Bible at Malachi (and then somehow unaccountably picked up again at Revelation).

But—given the attention to running, I thought it especially appropriate that the vehicle is a Honda FIT.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Spreading the word

Okay, I’m not saying that there’s a movement afoot, but I found a second sign for a jumped-up townhouse development in The People’s Republic defaced. And in pretty much the same way that the first one was:

I don’t think the developers much care, so I’d be surprised if they replace the signs. I mean—by the time they notice, they’ll have sold all the units and be moving on to their next cookie-cutter “luxury” project.

Still—I kinda admire the commitment of the graffiti artists.

 

 

©2026 Bas Bleu

 

Gratitude Monday: Champagne

A small gratitude today.

A small gratitude named Champagne.

I’ve been having some issues with inflammation across what I refer to as the hip delivery system; diagnosed as arthritis and bursitis, it’s literally a pain in the ass. It turns out that any movement you want to make with any part of your body passes somehow through the hips/butt, and you don’t notice it until it’s painful. Also—your body starts to conform to misalignment in order to reduce pain, and trying to reconfigure the muscles to where you should be is also painful.

So I’ve struggled with my morning walks. Saturday was the first time in a few days that I did the circuit, and I was worried that—even after a couple of weeks of PT—I’d have repercussions. I was just about 75% through it when I spotted this guy dancing through the parking lot of a micropark:

Yes, that’s Champagne. Seems like some dogs wear Halloween costumes; Champagne lives the costume.

But he also has the personality behind the coloration—bright, happy, friendly. There were many scritches and a few kisses, which made the entire walk worthwhile. No walk, no Champagne.

And that’s today’s gratitude.

  

©2026 Bas Bleu