"Relaxing/ Sleep Music" (opens in separate window)
chaos creeps in on little cat's feet
friday, july 11th, 2025
the Democratic Party put another bullet in its head this week with the election of the charming, affable jihadi communist Zohran Mamdani. Is “communist” too harsh a label? (He styles himself, softly, a “socialist.”) Yet his campaign platform looks like a template from the venerable Soviet Council of Ministers circa 1957: Free Everything: housing, buses and subways, college, child-care, government food stores. . . with a cherry-on-top of replacing police with social workers in high crime areas — because rapists and car-jackers would quit their rowdy ways if only they could talk about their feelings.
If you believe the news reports emanating from Woke Central, Zohran received major support from the folks who predominate the Upper West Side, where he was raised-up by his Columbia prof Dad and film-maker Mom. That is, voted in by the same high-income demographic that flocks to Zabar’s Deli on Sunday mornings for smoked sturgeon and babka — a curious alliance. I guess this solves the old riddle of why Europe’s Jews walked so placidly into Auschwitz. These are not Democrats, not liberals, not progressives... they're treasonous hate-America leftists, murderous islamist sewage, and communist filth.
“Life imitates art,” old Oscar Wilde liked to say, and with so many self-administered bullets in its head now, the Democratic Party looks more and more like The Walking Dead, a necromantic tribute to its erstwhile mascot, “Joe Biden,” the Phantom of the White House. Fortunately, the Latinx bombshell, AOC, America’s answer to Eva Peron, has stepped up to the leadership role, flanked by the foxy Jasmine Crockett, with their mentor, Bernie Sanders close at hand (on a leash, really) barking validation for the Party’s death trip.
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It’s a wonder of our time (and its playful zeitgeist) that New Yorkers might choose a mayor even worse than the brain-dead colossus, Bill de Blasio, but there it is, in plain sight for all to behold. The Big Apple and its various services will now go from their currently merely broke-ass condition, to the complete collapse of infrastructure, transit, housing, revenue, business, and public safety, in other words, to true Third World authenticity! Serious people, who run viable businesses, support families, and pay whopping taxes, are in a panic, all a’chatter about moving elsewhere.
That chatter is not idle, especially among the class that owns major real estate, of which New York City has a frightening and increasingly obsolete inventory — hundreds of office skyscrapers running at fifty percent (or less) occupancy, which cannot cover their mortgages, maintenance, or taxes. What will become of them? I’ll tell you: some will be foreclosed-on, sold for dimes on the dollar (and fail again under new ownership,) and quite few will stand empty waiting for acanthus tree seeds to sprout on their empty windowsills. I can negotiate with a man who wants to make money. I can't negotiate with a communist who wants to kill me.
Or, they will turn into “squats,” like the towers in the abandoned city center of Johannesburg that I saw visiting there ten years ago. Those giant office buildings were not converted into “residential,” you understand; folks were simply camping-out there, even with the electricity and water turned off. This is exactly what happens when you run the prosperous people, whom you hate, out of town, which is what happened in that sad-sack nation. How many demonstration projects like that are needed to prove that communism with a racist frosting on top is a mug’s game.
Of course, we’re not there yet. Zohran hasn’t been sworn in, though the victory celebration just now looks like it’s fait accompli. You can only imagine the frantic conversation running between the old party poohbahs out in the cold: Chuck Schumer, Hakim, Nadler, Obama, even the loser, Cuomo, plus the non-elected party apparatchiks: Axelrod, Podesta, Carville, Plouffe, Emmanuel. . . . They’re not saying, but I bet many are silently wondering: Is there some way we can just disappear the guy? Make him go away? X him out? Cancel his ass? (Someone, for Godsake, find a couple of girls who will say he groped them in an elevator!)
Or maybe some electoral work-around? Maybe put what remains of the party’s dwindling financial mojo back behind Eric Adams — yes, he’s still Mayor — who supposedly quit the party (after they tried and failed to stuff him in prison) and is running for mayor now as an independent. . . but who will surely welcome whatever support and moolah they can bring to his cause. Adams’s two great virtues as a political figure: he’s not Bill de Blasio and he’s not Zohran Mamdani.
New York might go down the drain anyway. At least for a while. That broken business model for skyscrapers is not going away anytime soon, and neither is the greatly augmented Third World population funneled across the open border into New York City by “Joe Biden’s” shadowy minders. Will New York turn into that fairytale town whose economy subsisted on people simply taking in each other’s laundry?
Well, the city will always have its geographical assets, like, the best goshdarn ocean harbor in the whole east coast. Something will be there. . . some human agglomeration. But what? And over all of that, like the uncanny eyes of Dr. TJ Eckleburg in Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, looming above the ash-heaps of Queens County on the road to West Egg, lately rises the stern visage of Donald J. Trump, New York real estate mogul superbus, and now President of this sore-beset nation, watching events roll out.
© 6.27.2025 by James Howard Kunstler, "ClusterFuck Nation".
A Day In The Life.
Up at 6:45a on Friday -- our 249th Independence Day -- a (mercifully) cool 66°F, low humidity, cloudy morning, I made coffee, took an aspirin for R/S Sciatic pain, plus 5 other "KEEP ME ALIVE" PILLS AMONG THE MORNING'S 16 PILLS, fired-up the Win-7 Pentium HP Desktop to let 32 million lines of code load, had a couple smokes in the garage and checked the leftover errands list. I scanned the news and weather, tuned into the "CS Show LIVE" from 6-9, and the "CP Show LIVE" from 9-12. I scanned the news and weather headlines, and had a slice of Bacon, Egg & Cheese Toast. Sis stopped by just before 12 noon, to drop-off a pic and frame for my Mt Rose Mausoleum "Chapel of Memories" Niche, and to visit.
It was a truly beautiful day, when compared to the past 10-14 days of near crippling heat/humidity (for me), and I enjoyed being outside. I worked on "The Document", on-and-off, all day, so the afternoon went quickly. By 6p, I'd made an amazing, HUGE Fried Tomatoes, Crispy Shredded Hash Browns, 3 Eggs, Onions, Garlic, Parsley, Mushrooms Pie, for dinner, watched the evening news, skipped the TV fireworks crap, since the neighborhood was being blasted by nearby Springettsbury Twp Park fireworks. I switched to Discovery's "Gold Rush" until 1a, and bagged it for he day.
Up at 8a on Saturday, a clear, blue sky, 74°, low humidity morning, forecast to hit 88-90°, with increased humidity. HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY! I scanned the news and weather, dwelling on some articles about the terrible floods in Texas, and catastrophic loss of life, so far. Here's some pics. Very sad.
The FBI can tell you the name of every Jan 6th rioter, but not a single name of Epstein's Client List.Nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no one to do it with. So I worked on "The Document" again, did some other computer work, had a nice 2hr nap, and watched the news to get caught-up with the terrible TX floods. After a light dinner, I called Sherry, and we made plans for the coming week. I watched a TWC show called "Prime Suspect: Earth" for a while, and made it an early night, at 11p.
Awake at 5a, 7 and 8 on Sunday, I finally got up at 8:30, made coffee, scanned the news and weather, and tuned into the F1 British Grand Prix, on ESPN. It had degenerated into a 'monsoon race' in the rain, and was under yellow flag. I took a smoke break in the garage, fed the birds, and planned the day ahead. After some Rye Toast & Philly Cream Cheese, for breakfast, I got ready for the day, and started the first load of laundry, around 2p.
I tuned into the IndyCar Race at Mid-Ohio -- same track I got my SCCA Class III License at in 1984 -- and watched until 4, when Sis stopped by for a visit and to drop-off some Wegman's Chinese food for me, after her haircut and styling in Lancaster. It was an NBC Day (Nothing But Crap) for TV, so I spent time on the computer. i checked the TX Flood news almost every hour, hoping they'd find the missing 12 girls alive, but no further news. I spent most of the evening, after the news, on the computer, delving into news and continuing coverage of the TX Floods, and watched an episode of TWC's "Claw Hunters", but bagged it for the night, around 1a.
Up at 7:15a on Monday, a cloudy, VERY humid, 77° morning, forecast to be in the upper 80s/low 90s, all week. Summer's here. I made Kona Coffee, scanned the weather and news, while the lawn care company started-in around 8a -- why is it the fat guy always rides the big mower? -- and I tuned into the "CP Show LIVE", from 9-12. A WEIS Market delivery was scheduled in between 10-12, then I'd leave for 3 errands on my usual weekly trip, south of York. After unpacking the WEIS delivery, getting ready for the day, I left at 12:45p, for points south of York.
Light traffic, nice trip and I made an additional stop at the last, remaining shoe repair business, in Dallastown, to get my Galco Paddle Holster(s) re-made into belt holsters, for my Kimber 1911 .45cal ACP. Alas, they were closed, as were other normally-open businesses, but hopefully not out of business. I'll go another day this week, or next week. Back home, I unloaded, had some lunch around 2:30p, cleaned out the garage, and noticed that the sanitation services company, still hadn't picked-up the recycle bins. Around 4:15p, I hit the LR couch for a short 90min snooze. I woke-up in time for a last mug of coffee, and the evening news.
After the last of my pasta for dinner, I switched TV to MT's "Iron Resurrection", until 12:30a. Lights out. Cleaning lady's in at 8:30a.
Up at 5:45a on Monday, I made coffee, had a smoke in the garage, scanned the news and weather and checked my day's to-do list. It was a sunny, 74°, VERY humid, ***FLOOD WATCH*** posted morning. I had more Croissants with coffee, JoAnne arrived at 8:30 and got to work. I had some paperwork to do, and tired from getting up so early, fell asleep on the LR couch, until 12noon.
92° 96° 98° 102° and suffocatingly-humid outside. A ***HEAT ADVISORY*** and a ***SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WATCH*** were also posted, in the Susquehanna Valley area. Around 4p, the whole sky went BLACK, and the stormfront hit us;; it was torrential. Streets under 6" of water, building gutters overflowing, storm sewers overflowing, visibility at less than 25ft, horizontal rain. The works. Probably close to 3-4", in a matter of 50-60mins. Nice! I like storms.
By 6p, the sun was back out, things began to dry-off, and the humidity worsened. I reheated some leftover Chinese for dinner, watched the news, and switched to History's "The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch" until 1a; lights out.
Up at 8a on Wednesday, a cloudy, very humid, windless, 77° morning, forecast to reach 90°+ with more t-storms this afternoon. I made Kona Coffee, tuned into the "CP Show LIVE" 9-12, I had a couple smokes in the garage, but went out back to the beautifully-landscaped, irregular flagstone patio, and enjoyed the fresh air. I added more recyclables to the still unpicked-up bin at the curb, moved the Jeep out of the garage, brought-in the Sweet Italian Basil plants to be repotted, and waited for Sherry to arrive around 1p.
I repotted 2 Basil plants into 1qt pots, and will keep them in the shady garage for 2-3 days, so they can recover from transplant shock. Sherry arrived, and we stayed put at my condo until the t-storms arrived. A ***SEVERE THUNDERSTORM ALERT***, ***FLOOD WATCH*** and ***FLASH FLOOD WARNING*** were posted -- Triple Header! -- again for this area, and just before 5p, it dumped on us. Sherry stayed until we got a short break in the rain, thunder & lightening, and then made a beeline for home in her car. I watched the evening news, enjoyed a cup of fresh Kona Coffee, and planned tomorrow. After dinner, I watched History's "American Pickers" until 1a, and bagged it for the day.
Up at 7:30a on Thursday, a cloudy, drizzly, 72°, no breeze morning, forecast for a high of 84°, with more severe t-storms, as we've had over the past 4 days. I made coffee, scanned the weather and news, and tuned into the "CS Show LIVE" until 9, then switched to the "CP Show LIVE" until 12noon. Sis stopped by at 11a, to visit and drop-off several containers of her latest, very mild, "Zero Alarm" Chili. Very, very good! I had a large lunch, re-checked the radar maps and news headlines, and fell asleep on the LR couch, for 4 wonderful hours. Wow.
I had dinner, watched the evening news, and switched to History's "Ancient Aliens" until 11p. Lights out.
Tomorrow starts a new week, here in the "Journal", and I've got to try to get labs/blood work done, and have a mid-week meeting with the manaher of Mt Rose to present our proposal for the new flagpost memorial walk. And hopefully, a day with Sherry.
Cage Match.
Who knows what to believe these days? Well, what would you expect after years, even decades, of anti-reality operations by everyone from the CIA to The New York Times to Harvard U. Is it any wonder that reality-optionality is making the people both apathetic and insane?
We are told now by the FBI that there is no evidence that Jeffrey Epstein ran a blackmail operation against the politicos of Western Civ, or that a “client list” existed, or that JE was murdered in his jail cell. It well might be true that there is no evidence, strictly speaking.
Messrs. Patel and Bongino, coming into office rather late in the Epstein game, were apparently left with big bag of nuthin. What else can they truthfully report? So, they had to put it out there, knowing a whole lot of people would be miffed. “We’ve got nuthin, sorry.” Were they chagrined to do that? Evidently so. Of course, this Epstein business has been going on for years and years and it is certainly possible that the most damning evidence has been destroyed by interested parties.
Personally, I find it implausible that absolutely nothing ever leaked, no video of, say, Tony Blair or Bill Clinton violating a child, if it ever happened. Everything else in our world leaks, eventually. And there were supposedly how many cameras around the Epstein properties, and how many thousands of hours of video recordings? There is more video of Bigfoot than of compromised Epstein bigshots. Just sayin’.
AG Pam Bondi, the FBIs boss, also has some ‘splainin’ to do. In February, she claimed to have the Epstein client list “sitting on my desk right now to review,” and hinted it would be released shortly. That material, when released, turned out to be the old dog-eared flight logs that have been circulating through every news outlet for years. Did she not know the difference between an alleged “client list” and the old flight logs? Let’s face it: seems kind of dumb. . . seems like the AG got played. . . and now the mob on “X” is having sport with her.
Among the miffed, apparently, is Elon Musk. At the height of his feud with Mr. Trump, on June 5, Elon put out a message on his “X” platform saying, "@realDonaldTrump is in the Epstein files. That is the real reason they have not been made public. Have a nice day, DJT!". This intemperate utterance naturally prompts you to wonder: how (or what) might Elon know about any supposed Epstein evidence? At this point, the FBI might send somebody to inquire. Did Elon, who has more money than even Scrooge McDuck, somehow manage to buy up all those alleged blackmail tapes? Does he otherwise know where they might have disappeared to? Has he ever seen anything? Anyway, he didn’t produce any actual evidence.
Is Elon losing it, a little bit. His grip, that is. Mr. Trump thinks so. He declared over the weekend that Elon has “gone off the rails” . . . has become “a train wreck.” Well, what you can see in this very public, very regrettable cage-match between two giant public personalities is that Elon has lost his cool and the president has not.
For one thing, Elon is apparently incensed over the One Big Beautiful Bill (OBBB) just signed into law because it ends the electric vehicle mandate left over from the “Joe Biden” regime, as well as the whopping $7,500 federal tax credit for new electric cars — loss of which which is apt to break Tesla’s business model. The bill also calls for sunsetting subsidies for battery production by 2028, meaning Tesla’s Powerwall business is likewise affected. Mr. Trump took pains to explain that he’d informed Elon from the get-go (and repeatedly) that all those subsidies were done for when he got elected.
Elon was visibly perturbed over the process that produced the OBBB, the proverbial political sausage-making (i.e., a nasty business you’d be appalled to watch). It appeared, he said, to un-do all of his DOGE spending cuts so laboriously made. Mainly, Elon deplored the failure to address the $36-trillion-plus national debt, widely recognized as a time-bomb on a short fuse liable to sink the whole USS United States. I will tell you a harsh truth: nobody will do anything about the national debt. The sheer math of our annual debt service is simply impossible. Our country is heading into some sort of bankruptcy proceeding, some kind of ferocious “work out” — as they say in the banking board-rooms.
Mr. Trump is betting that re-industrialization of the USA will produce enough of the right sort of growth — that is, production of real things of real value, as opposed to mere financial shenanigans — that the debt reckoning can be overcome somehow. Or mitigated. It’s a bold risk, and many pieces of the scheme are indeed falling into place: tariffs, bigly investment capital from foreigners, a general realignment of trade relations, tax reform, downsizing of government.
But a virulent opposition, the mad-dog remnants of the Democratic Party, seeks to wreck Mr. Trump’s program (and perhaps the USA altogether), and it is a miracle that the president has gotten this far with his plan. Personally, I’m doubtful that the energy resources will be there to underwrite this reindustrialization, but that is a topic for another day.
And now Elon, peeved as he is, proposes to bring another big obstacle onto the scene, his proposed new “American Party.” Looks like he is making a tactical blunder, and his distraught emotional demeanor suggests poor decision-making. Frankly, I’ve been concerned about Elon’s soundness-of-mind since he came on-board Mr. Trump’s band-wagon last summer. There was something peculiar about his spastic rompings on stage, his jerky movements, his garbly speeches. You wonder if all the talk about his world-beating “genius” has messed with his mind.
Also, frankly, I’ve long thought that attempting to colonize Mars was absurd, or at least premature. Shouldn’t we rather make an effort to demonstrate that we can live on this planet successfully before we venture off to a new one? After all, this Earth is perfectly suited to our needs and Mars is absolutely not. I doubt that even the most extreme transhuman program would avail to implant us up there.
To cut to the chase: the grandiosity of Elon’s plans, and the oddness of his public performances, suggests to me that he has gone a bit crazy in the pure sense of the word. This new party he proposes looks like a crazy play by a crazy person. He can throw zillions of dollars into it, and create a whole lot of political mischief, but what would that prove? How would that make him any better than such obvious villains as George Soros and Bill Gates?
© 7.07.2025 by James Howard Kunstler, "ClusterFuck Nation".
