All posts for the month January, 2022

Musingsofanoldfart reblog

Published January 31, 2022 by Nan Mykel

Republican Leader of National Governors Association says ‘Trump should not lead country again’

While it has been like watching a ship turn in a harbor, the Republican admonitions of the candidacy of the latest former president are slowly piling up. Since Donald Trump’s efforts to incite, invite and inspire the insurrectionists who stormed the Capitol last January 6 to secure his status as president, I have long felt he was done as a political candidate. I still do.

Yet, after initial backlash against him by Republicans, too many have backslid and have tried to whitewash what happened in an Oz-like fashion. Now, there is more than a trickle occurring where admonishing the former president’s candidacy is not the kiss of death in Republican worlds as it once was. The other day, I posted a well-articulated letter to the editor from a woman who called herself a “sane conservative” who said she has no candidate, the former president lost the election and referenced the GOP as not living up to its ideals.

In an article called “Donald Trump should not lead the country again, says the Republican leader of the National Governors Association” by Nicole Gaudiano of Business Insider, the following negative endorsement is revealed.

“The Republican chairman of the National Governors Association said on Saturday that Donald Trump should not lead Republicans or the country again.

‘I do not believe Trump is the one to lead our party and our country again, as president,’ Arkansas Gov. Asa Hutchinson told Insider on the sidelines of the NGA Winter Meeting in Washington, DC.

Insider asked Hutchinson whether he wants Trump to run following a video that recently surfaced in which Trump declares on the golf course that he is ‘the 45th and the 47th’ president.

Asked who should lead instead, Hutchinson said ‘that’s what the election is all about.’

The reason I am highlighting these negative endorsements of Trump is the wrong question is being asked by Republicans. It should not be whether Trump could win again? The question is how can someone vote for a president who not only consistently lies to and bullies people, but has betrayed his country and was so incompetent and controlling in his pandemic response, doctors, epidemiologists and data scientists in and out of government had to be secretive as they bandied together to get information out about the disease?

Taking the former president at his word is not only a fool’s errand, it is dangerous to the lives of people.

Researchers Find: That Trump Supporters…

Published January 31, 2022 by Nan Mykel

Useful info!

In Saner Thought

This issue has defied explanation for years……what exactly makes a Trump supporter tick? What about the man makes so many angry and so many devoted?

A couple of researchers have tried to answer those questions and a few others.

What makes a Trump voter tick? Is it policy, their leader’s charisma, or something else entirely?

Two researchers at the University of North Carolina and the University of Missouri set out to answer that by measuring candidate support, cognitive performance and political ideology among 831 US-based participants — and found that Trump voters are, simply put, more cognitively rigid and interpersonally cold.

“Conservatism is commonly defined along two dimensions: Resistance to change, and opposition to equality,” the two authors wrote in their study, published November last year in the Journal of Social and Political Psychology. “Liberalism is defined by the opposite. People with enhanced sensitivity to threat and uncertainty in…

View original post 398 more words

Hunt and Kill The Gays Ugandan Minister Lokodo is Dead

Published January 30, 2022 by Nan Mykel

If I say “Sigh” it may be misinerpreted, so I won’t say anything, except to reblog it.


The Ugandan Minister Who Hunted Gays is DEAD ! Uganda’s Former ethics and integrity minister Rev Fr Simon Lokodo is dead.

Ironically Fr Lokodo, one of the greatest human rights abusers who persecuted LGBTQI Ugandans was a member of the Uganda Human Rights Commission (UHRC) and in commission of this work died Saturday morning in Geneva, Switzerland, according to a statement from the rights body.

The LGBTQI world will not be mourning this man’s death, noting he is probably directly and indirectly responsible for much violence and resulting death to innocent Ugandans.

Melanie Nathan of African Human Rights Coalition notes: “Simon Lokodo, a former priest, promoted the horrific Anti-Homosexuality Act of 2014, also known as THE KILL THE GAYS BILL, in Uganda. He hid his human rights abuses behind his title of MINISTER of ETHICS and INTEGRITY, between 2011 and June 2021 when he was dropped from cabinet. Two months…

View original post 298 more words


Published January 30, 2022 by Nan Mykel

Keith Wilson (musingsofanoldfart) refers us thusly to :  an interesting post by a minister named John Pavlovitz. He has one of the best blogs on religion and everyday life. Keith

“if Conservatives are going to declare a holy war on writings that are somehow dangerous to young minds or potentially harmful to society, they’re going to need to reckon with the true and full legacy of the Christian Scriptures: the inhumanity, violence, and sexual immorality that accompany the teachings of mercy, compassion, and justice.

“They’re going to need to be honest about its patriarchs with hundreds of wives and concubines, with unpunished sexual assault, with the slaughtering of entire cities in the name of God, with thousands of words used since its distribution to perpetuate bigotry and intolerance….”

and much more, on Rev. John’s site…Thanks for the referral, Keith…

Book Banning

Published January 29, 2022 by Nan Mykel

Will public libraries be targeted next for book banning?  Even the thought is reprehensible.

Mississippi mayor withholds library funds over LGBTQ books


RIDGELAND, Miss. — The director of a Mississippi library system says a mayor is withholding $110,000 from his city’s library because LGBTQ books are on the shelves.

Tonja Johnson, executive director of the Madison County Library System, told news outlets that Ridgeland Mayor Gene McGee received citizen complaints about a handful of books that depicted members of the LGBTQ community.

“Funding for this year was being withheld until we removed what he called ‘homosexual material’ from the library,” Johnson told WAPT-TV. “His reasoning that he gave was that, as a Christian, he could not support that, and that he would not release funding until we remove the material.”

Pulitzer Prize-winning novel “The Sympathizer”: "....those who seek to ban books are wrong no matter how dangerous books can be. Books are inseparable from ideas, and this is really what is at stake: the struggle over what a child, a reader and a society are allowed to think, to know and to question. A book can open doors and show the possibility of new experiences, even new identities and futures."


Published January 29, 2022 by Nan Mykel









Photo by Nan


Snow is on the ground

I am snug in bed

What will I feel

When I am dead?


The child’s stark cry

Of where did she go?

Still puzzles me

I just don’t know


Gone in a second

Quick as a blink

I won’t have words

With which to think


Go with the flow

I can’t tell me

What’s the good of

A college degree?


Ha! don’t I wish that…

Memory was gone

Bad things said and

bad things done.


Bad is a word and

I won’t have those

But tears are wet

As everyone knows


What am I made of

Not sugar and spice

Maybe crawdads and

Poo and not a thing nice


But bereft of a heart

I can still feel.  Yes I can

And sense old friends

In La La Land


Lacking ears to hear

Or heart to pound

I can still make out the

Celestial sound


We lost a lot

When words came to stay

And nibble away knowing

The old fashioned way.


Dead, I am mycelium

A piece of the whole

No lungs but I breathe

An old old soul


Dead to the world

I live with old friends

Who welcome me back

Again and again.



Nan   January 29, 2022

Old Survivor Post but Still Relevant!–Reblogged

Published January 22, 2022 by Nan Mykel

10 ways I put myself back together after trauma


This is me at 17 years of age

I can’t tell you how much the response meant to me after I posted Til it Happens to you. The support was incredible! I was too overcome to respond for a while. People have asked how I got through it all. I suffered status epilepticus at 13, meaning I had continual seizures which couldn’t be controlled. I stopped breathing and was in a coma. It took a long time to recover from this event (it was predicted I wouldn’t). The next year, I met a monster, and was abused. The finale was being thrown off a building at fifteen. My healing has taken over twenty years. There are some things that have helped.

1. I can’t handle violence of any kind. I can’t discuss literature, nor movies, let alone view them, if they are violent. At first, I didn’t want people to think I was fragile. I didn’t want them to see the distress that talking about violence (parcelled as entertainment to the masses), conjured. I would pretend that it wasn’t hurting me. Nowadays, I don’t pretend. I gracefully bow out of conversations and invitations which would bring me into this sphere.

2. I couldn’t leave the house by myself, even to go to the letterbox. It has taken many years and many small trips to gather the strength to go farther afield. I plan ahead, and the apps I have on my phone make my preparations easier. If you are agoraphobic, be kind to yourself. Every little step is a triumph. My major incentive was that I had to get to the IVF clinic early in the morning, and simply had to do it. It made me braver than I actually felt! Now I take my daughter everywhere, and the freedom is liberating!

3. I have had to confront my deepest fears. The ones I was frightened of encountering, as I would surely fall apart. My fears included rejection, loneliness, being left alone and finding out that people weren’t as they appeared. Confronting these fears has been terrifying, and it has hurt. I have uncovered that people I looked up to were abusive behind closed doors. I have been let down and let go, but I have survived. I learnt not to leave myself behind in the process. Comforting myself became of premium importance.

4. People see a smiling, functional adult when you are out and about. They don’t recollect the child kept alive in Intensive Care on a respirator. They came into my life during a different chapter. I know what it took to get to here. The hundreds of hours of physiotherapy, the scores of surgeries… I have to remind myself of my achievements and give myself a quiet pat on the back.

5. Boundaries are a big one for a survivor. I felt as vulnerable as a newborn when I started to make a life for myself. I believed anything anyone said, and believed everyone was a friend. It has taken trial and many errors to come up with boundaries, and to trust my judgement above all else. It was a revelation, to give myself the space to honour my instincts. If a person or situation doesn’t sit right, and makes me uncomfortable, I walk away. It is imperative to do so, as I have a little girl watching me. I need to display good boundaries so she knows that its okay to be in touch with her own. It has sometimes taken me being struck mute in the company of somebody who is toxic, for me to comprehend that my body is trying to protect me by producing physical symptoms. I am free, and thus I get to decide who stays in my life. It may not be anything that anyone is doing. Rather,  they remind me of someone from the past. I still have to honour my discomfort.

6. Things will trigger me on a daily basis, and much of it is out of my control. It could be a song coming on in the supermarket, an aftershave I detect in passing. It might be a conversation, or visiting a friend in a hospital where I had prior surgery. Deep breaths are required, and sometimes a visit to the lady’s restroom to compose myself. I tell myself that my anxiety is a natural reaction, and I am doing fine. If I am with close friends, I will tell them that a memory has come up. If I am not, I will breath deeply, find a focal spot to concentrate on, and reassure myself quietly.

7. I will not drink to excess, nor take tablets to blot out a bad day. Sometimes, the memories hit hard, and along with the massive amount of pain I suffer, it becomes overwhelming. Alcohol is a depressant, and thus, is disastrous as an antidote. I will only have alcohol when in the company of friends at dinner, or as a toast of celebration. It only compounds the depression which inevitably comes after overworked adrenals have crashed. Instead, I go for a walk, swim or am otherwise active. It helps tremendously.

8. I will space out at times. When you hardly sleep, and are in pain, it happens naturally. When you put flashbacks or a panic attack into the mix, let’s say I am sometimes  away with the fairies! Writing (and preparing for a writing task), also lends itself to spacing out. If you holler at me on the street and I don’t respond, that’s why! I am escaping into my inner world, which is expansive and magical. I nearly jump out of my skin when I am walking along and a car beeps me. I remain jittery for the rest of the day. I am hyper vigilant; always scanning a crowd for danger, even when in my own world. It’s quite a combination!

9. You are allowed to say “no” to a request. You are allowed to rest. I keep going until I can’t, and at that point, I retreat for a bit. I have to. It is a revelation, when you learn that you can keep free spaces in the calendar. Even thirty minutes to sip tea and daydream is heavenly. I need time alone to restore and reboot. Time is precious, and I try to use it wisely.

10. My survival has been an odyssey of epic proportions. I tried to run from the memories. I attempted to smother them, as one instinctively does a fire. The smoke streams from underneath the cloth, and then the flames explode forth in a cacophony of rage. It is like burning off disease, only to have damaging adhesions form underneath. Running doesn’t work, and it certainly doesn’t help. Over many years, I have visited my places of trauma. I have wept and I have released at each site. I only did so when I was ready. You have to be ready. My natural instinct is still to run when triggered, but now I have tools. They come in the form of a laptop, a paintbrush, a pastel. They come to me as bird song, my walking shoes, my friends and my music.

When I was a child, I had big dreams. I had a determined spirit and an acute awareness that what was being done to me was not only wrong, but evil. I felt as though a cannon had ripped through my psyche, smattering me into pieces. Over time, I have laid out all the pieces, and put them into place. I am glued, sewn, fused and grafted together. I was once a china doll. Now I am reinforced and can never be broken again. It takes time to heal. You will want to give up. You will consider yourself beyond repair. You will want to run and you will try to escape your own mind. You will want to give up. Please don’t. The joy of finally accessing the tools to help you cope are worth the fight.







Published January 19, 2022 by Nan Mykel

It’s funny how some memories persist while others are scarcely registered or maintained.  For example, I have almost no memory of my visit to the Louvre, but many memories of…maybe incidents?  What would it have taken for me to have remembered seeing Leonardo daVinci’s  Mona Lisa, for instance?   Things about the trip that I do remember, for instance, include:

The perpendicular chain on the window of our cabin on the  slow freighter Marengo appearing to move back and forth as it was tossed to and fro on the north Atlantic…(It was the porthole that was moving, not the chain)…

Being introduced to the taste of a drop of rum in morning tea at a campsite in Bulgaria…

Unexpectedly meeting some friendly gypsies with a dancing bear in the woods–but I can’t remember the country…

Being interrogated at the equivalent of a police station by an official who was reading our passports until he came to the photo which caused him to turn the passport rightside-up…

Eating so many plums from the Bazaar in Instanbul that I got a bad case of hives…

Mistaking the drain in a shower for the local version of a toilet at a youth hostel in the early days in France.

Upon returning to Manchester to catch a slow freighter ride back home, we were afforded a few nights free because a strike was going on.

Lice at an overnight inn at Brindisi.

While traveling deck passage, the first thing I saw and heard when I opened my eyes the next morning were cliffs either side of our ship and far overhead the sight and sound ot a distant tooting train crossing a bridge over us: the Straits of Corinth.

The one-legged communist who ran the campsite in St. Remy and bought our bicycles, prior to our purchasing one Vespa motor scooter.

The wonderful beaded doorways in St. Remy.

Surprise that there weren’t any mountains across the lake in Geneva, until the mist thinned and way up on top of the sky the setting sun moved a hair, revealing alps at our zenith.

The expression on my partner’s face when a dog peed on him alongside the Seine in Paris and I had a laughing fit.

The sound of firecrackers when we camped in the Pompeii campsite, momentarily causing alarm when wakened by them.

Learning the small cafe in Pompeii had a special cutrate menu for campers like us.

The sight of a fountain in the train station in Marseilles that read “Defense de uriner.”

On the Vespa, traversing sandy roads en route to the site of Schlieman’s Troy, in Turkey.

Sitting in dejection when the guard at a Turkey military base wouldn’t let us drive through the area on the way  back.  I said, “But we’re on the same side!” until they gave us a military escort through their base.

I think it was in downtown Bulgaria where we saw a billboard with a fat pig on it with the label USA.

Camping at Monaco and keeping a low profile when the Gary Powers’ U2 reconaissance plane was discussed.

Surprise at seeing all the stray cats near the Coliseum in Rome.

Collecting a few fossils in the white cliffs of Dover.

A free visit to an emergency room when I tried to get off the Vespa when left alone for  a few moments. An unimportant broken bone near the top of my foot was diagnosed.  Can’t remember which country, but the emergency visit was free, I do remember that!

Maybe it was having to crane my neck to view Michaelangelo’s ceiling fresco in the Sistine Chapel in Rome that left a memory with me.

Being stopped in Florence in the middle of a foot bridge across the Arno by a man who charged us for crossing on foot.  We had just been admiring works by Michangelo , after having camped in an olive grove overlooking the city.

On the same slow freighter we took both to and from Europe accidentally, (by serendipity), we were almost the only passengers, and so we always shared the same table as the captain.

When docked temporarily in New Brunswick  we were astonished to note that when we left the boat we had to walk down the gangplank, and when we returned we had to also walk down it, so great were the tides.

Learning to avoid looking at cars parked off-road in many of the countries.

Feeling ashamed of myself for getting so happy at the prospect of a hamburger, back in the U.S.

Mock Paper Scissors

The Internet's Band of Incorrigible Spitballers® and Cult Failure Since 2006

Pacific Paratrooper

This site is Pacific War era information

Edge of Humanity Magazine

An Independent Non-Discriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations

K E Garland

Inspirational kwotes, stories and images

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

Art and Literature Beyond Borders

Thar She Blows!

"So many people are crying in their latte!" ~ Sparks

Darcy Hitchcock

Envision a sustainable future

Barbara Crane Navarro

Rainforest Art Project - Pas de Cartier !

Kate Lunsford

Reflective Writing

Rosamond Press

A Newspaper for the Arts

Ned Hamson's Second Line View of the News

Second Look Behind the Headlines - News you can use...

Aging Capriciously

Divergent Thoughts on Life, Love and Death

Some View on the World

With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger

Filosofa's Word

Cogito Ergo Sum

Trent's World (the Blog)

Random Ramblings and Reviews from Trent P. McDonald

Catxman's Cradle

Catxman dances, Catxman spins around, leaps ....... // I sing a song, a song of hope, a song of looove -- a song of burning roses. / Synthesizer notes. // (c) 2021-22

Mapping uncertainty

When nothing is certain anything is possible

%d bloggers like this: