The E.P.A. said this week it would revoke its own ability to fight climate change. It’s the latest move in an extraordinary pivot away from science-based protections. -nytimes

It has come to my attention that I have an “inappropriate laugh.” I’m pretty sure it’s an unconscious trade-off that actually works pretty well, except for those caught in its crossfire, accidentally. So it’s no surprise that given my helplessness, and being so near the end of myself, I have to see some dark humor in the little rich boy getting richer at our expense (I speak for the lower tax brackets) and messing the world up as he goes out. Just for instance, destroying AIDS food, then acting horrified at resulting starvation. in Gaza. Can’t you see a little humor in that? I guess not, huh.

Another situation that almost makes me grim is the current spread of lying, modeled by Donnie whose advice to other men was, “never admit. Never.” I was reminded today on the news of his having told someone that he prefers married women because it’s so “wrong.”

The lyin’ AI and the ubiquitousness of purposeful misrepresentation and embrasure of lying has spread, even to discredit science. [Suspect science papers submitted]. What would be an apt metaphor for our current reality? OH! I don’t have to make up one! It’s right before us, via usatoday: Denmark’s Aalborg Zoo says donate your pets to feed our predators.

____________________

A FORMER HELPER WROTE THIS:

87

And times short

She might not remember

today, tomorrow or a minute from now

Something important for the next generation

A central tremor waves the lines of each written letter

But she’ll never surrender

Just Hold down the fort

condo 1004A

Stockpile the amo!

Half a dozen pens and pencils

Between the bedsheets

Notebooks and tissues

Magazines and books afloat the unmade bed

A trail of trail mix down the hallway

fiery passion

And a zest

Words of wisdom are held captive on the page

Waiting to be released

As each one of them is read

And that’s how you win a war with time

While sitting in bed.

(Thanks, Carrie from 2023.) In September I’ll be 90…or not.