Can we ever clean up the Trump mess?

The damage done during the era of Donald Trump isn’t the kind you fix with a policy memo or a change in leadership. It’s deeper than that. It’s structural, cultural, and psychological. It’s the kind of damage that lingers long after the headlines fade and the slogans stop echoing.

Some consequences hit fast. Gas prices, for example, can spike overnight and grab everyone’s attention. But the more dangerous effects are slower, quieter, and far more persistent. Inflation doesn’t announce itself with a bang—it seeps in. It erodes savings, shrinks purchasing power, and quietly locks younger generations out of homeownership. It’s not just that things cost more; it’s that the future becomes less attainable.

And then there’s the environmental toll. Policies that roll back protections don’t just disappear when administrations change. The air doesn’t clean itself overnight. Pollution accumulates. Climate patterns destabilize. Fires grow larger, storms grow stronger, and what used to be called “unusual” becomes routine. The cost of neglect shows up not just in dollars, but in the quality of the air we breathe and the safety of the places we live.

But perhaps the most lasting damage isn’t economic or environmental—it’s cognitive. Reality itself has taken a hit. A significant portion of the country now operates in an alternate version of truth, one shaped more by loyalty than by facts. In that world, contradictions don’t matter, evidence is optional, and belief outweighs reality. The merging of political identity with religious fervor has created something powerful and deeply resistant to correction. When a political figure and a religious figure become interchangeable in the minds of followers, debate becomes nearly impossible.

This distortion has consequences. It fractures communities, erodes trust in institutions, and makes cooperation feel like betrayal. It turns disagreement into hostility and replaces dialogue with slogans. Once that kind of thinking takes hold, it doesn’t simply vanish with a change in leadership—it persists, spreads, and hardens.

History shows that institutions can be repaired. Economies can recover. Even environmental damage, to some extent, can be mitigated. But rebuilding a shared sense of reality—that’s the hardest task of all. It requires time, education, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths.

The cleanup isn’t just about policy. It’s about restoring trust, reestablishing facts, and reconnecting people to a common understanding of the world. And that kind of repair doesn’t happen quickly. It takes years—maybe longer.

Because when reality itself has been bent, straightening it back out is no small job.

What does if feel like to be Stupid?

I got up this morning wondering what does it feel like to be stupid. I put on a MAGA hat, pasted a Trump sticker on a jacked up pickup truck, and then realized I was missing something, it was a huge American flag flying from the back of my truck. I felt like and idiot, but I knew how to make it worse. The Tea Party was the answer. I went to a Tea Party meeting and listened to Fox News conspiracy theories repeated. In a room full of redneck Hoopleheads I felt at home as an idiot. Right away I noticed no one was allowed to speak unless they agreed with Trump and the lies he told.  It hit me I was missing something, a gun.  If you want to be part of the network of idiots, you need a gun, concealed or carried in the open.  With my new look I took off to the grocery store. It worked, people looked at me and treated me as an idiot. All I needed to do now was join the Republican Party. 
 

Strange Twist on Trump

 

Trump: The Accidental Salesman for Renewable Energy

History has a strange sense of humor. Sometimes the very people who try to drag the world backward end up pushing it forward.

Take Donald Trump.

Between the chaos, the chest-thumping, and the ever-present threat of conflict, Trump may be doing something he never intended—accelerating the world’s shift to renewable energy.

War has always been about control. Control of land. Control of people. But most importantly—control of energy. Oil pipelines, shipping routes, gas supplies. These are the real chess pieces behind the headlines. And when a leader behaves unpredictably, when conflict becomes a daily possibility, the rest of the world starts asking a simple question:

Why are we still dependent on anything that can be taken away?

That’s where the irony kicks in.

You can’t embargo sunlight.
You can’t sanction the wind.
You can’t bomb a solar panel into submission across the entire planet.

Countries are beginning to understand that energy independence doesn’t just mean drilling more oil—it means eliminating vulnerability altogether. And nothing does that better than renewables.

Solar panels don’t care who the dictator is this week. Wind turbines don’t stop spinning because someone decided to flex military muscle. Renewable energy doesn’t answer to strongmen, oligarchs, or unstable governments.

And when global tensions rise, the math changes fast.

Every missile launched, every threat made, every supply chain disrupted—it all sends a signal to the rest of the world: Get off the grid that can be controlled.

Europe has already felt it. Parts of Asia are moving faster. Even countries that once dragged their feet are now sprinting toward solar fields and wind farms—not because they suddenly became environmental idealists, but because they became realists.

Energy security is national security.

That’s the part no one talks about enough.

Trump may rail against green energy. He may mock it, dismiss it, or try to prop up the fossil fuel past. But the instability that follows him is quietly making the case for renewables stronger than any climate activist ever could.

Because fear is a powerful motivator.

And nothing drives change faster than the realization that your entire economy can be held hostage by someone else’s decisions.

In the end, this may be Trump’s unintended legacy—not the slogans, not the rallies, not the bluster.

But a world that looked at the chaos and decided:

We’re done being dependent.

The sun rises every day.
The wind keeps blowing.

And no dictator can turn either one off.

Here we sit

Wild grandchildren are fun. Granny and Granpa are in New York with Evie and Quinn. Constant excitement. Quinn constantly shooting Grandpa with his foam darts. Evie dances, and fights with Quinn. Cold is a new thing for two old North Dakota people. It has been so long since we have been cold. Yesterday we helped build the new enclosed raised garden which will be the source of vegetables this summer.  

 Trump has now grifted almost 4 billion dollars with his bribery schemes, and other crooked kickback deals. Trump has set back green energy by years, and now started a war to divert people from his sex crimes. No matter how much he lies or steals, or violates the constitution his cult will not abandon him. Trump's downfall will be gasoline prices. The cult reads little and gets all the cult news from Fox News, but the cult members cannot ignore the news at the gas pump. 

Sylvie is headed to New York

Stop right here. Kadizzle is going to make an extensive brag about his wonderful granddaughter. If this is not your cup of tea, go sit on the toilet and read something interesting. Sylvie is amazing. Erin is her helicopter mom. Sylvie goes to the Denver School for the Arts. Her acting career has been notable since she was ten. Sylvie has had major parts in many plays. Recently she got a scholarship and will need many more for college. She is a straight A student taking college courses. Soon she will travel to Scotland to participate in an acting extravaganza. On weekends Sylvie dresses as various Disney characters and is the star of children's birthdays.  Add to all that she is a good athlete, and artist. Grandpa loves that little girl that is now almost six feet tall. 

 

Crumbling like a pro

 Kadizzle is now 77, and it feel like 107. Waking up is like starting an old junker that has sat idle for years. Everything is stiff and sore. The cement in the back has cured, and the ball bearings are worn out everywhere. 

In the middle of the night when sleep is hard to come by Kadizzle often checks the news. The Payson Roundup comes on line at midnight. There it is, a letter by a world renowned liar, Gary Morris. Guess who liar A supports, yes, liar B.  Gary Morris is promoting Trump's attempt to steal the next election. Kadizzle went to court with Morris and won. Morris tried his standard trick of lying under oath, but Gary had the misfortune of a unfriendly judge. His old buddy the judge that he helped elect was not in the court room to protect him. Instead it was a clean judge from Scottsdale. The case centered on the fact Gary Morris is a pathological liar. What a coincidence Morris loves Trump. The Scottsdale judge saw right through Gary Morris lying. After losing the case Morris resigned as head of the local Republican Party. 

Amazing Hearings

On youtube you can watch Trump's idiots in action. The people Trump has chosen to help him destroy the country are the worst possible candidates. To replace Christie Noem, Trump looked hard to find an equal idiot. The new idiot thinks dueling is still legal and appropriate for settling disagreements.  

The Train is coming down the track

 You can dance, you can sing, you can do anything, but the train is coming down the track, just try stopping it. In Payson the old goats think they can prevent the future. It is futile. The rain will come and the wind will blow some will die in the winter snow. Who owns the future? The young own the future, but unfortunately the old have given them a future full of problems, and catastrophes. The very basics of life are in jeapordy, the air, the water, and the atmosphere that protects us from the sun. Humans have two basic choices, ignore the future or prepare for it. Climate change is real, so let's ignore it. Society is going to change, but let's ignore it. Dictatorships are on the horizon, but let's ignore it. Greed is destroying our economy, but let's ignore it. Disease has become more of a threat, but let's ignore it. Your car is overheating, and the tires need air. Maybe we can make it home. What has worked in the past may not work in the future, something changed. Who do you want to address the future, old people who don't have a future, or young people who will own it. That is Payson in 2026. Are you going to put this town in the hands of the people who brought us this mess, or are you going to let the owners of the future lead us there?