The Grey Ghetto

The Three Stooges and the Grey Ghetto Mentality

There is nothing wrong with being old. In fact, many of Payson's retirees built successful businesses, raised families, served in the military, and helped create the community we enjoy today. Age is not the problem.

The problem is that Councilmen Otto, Bell, and Ferris seem to govern as if nobody in Payson has a pulse. Their vision of the future appears to be a town frozen in time, where nothing changes, nothing grows, and every new idea is treated as a threat.

Some residents jokingly call Payson a "Grey Ghetto." While that description is unfair to many retirees, it captures the mindset the Three Stooges seem determined to promote. Their political base often consists of people living on the financial edge, worried about every penny of government spending and terrified that any change might somehow destroy the community.

What makes this especially strange is that Payson is no longer a poor little mountain town. This is a community where homes routinely sell for a million dollars or more. At any given time there can be dozens of homes on the market priced above two million dollars. Wealthy retirees, professionals, and successful business owners have chosen to live here because Payson offers beauty, recreation, and a high quality of life.

Yet the Three Stooges continue to act as though Payson is one step away from becoming a ghost town if the library buys a new book or the town invests in a park.

Their political playbook is predictable. If there is a problem, blame immigrants. If someone disagrees with them, accuse them of being radical. If the library acquires a controversial book, declare that civilization is collapsing because of pornography. If all else fails, dust off the latest Tea Party conspiracy theory and present it as settled fact.

Meanwhile, the real issues facing Payson receive far less attention. How do we attract younger families? How do we create amenities that increase property values? How do we make the town attractive to professionals, entrepreneurs, and visitors? How do we plan for the next twenty years instead of reliving the last twenty?

Instead of discussing those questions, the public is treated to endless culture-war theater. Residents hear more about imaginary threats than actual opportunities.

The irony is that the people pushing this fearful message benefit enormously from the prosperity of Payson. They enjoy the roads, parks, police services, medical facilities, and property values that come from a growing and successful community. Yet they often oppose the very investments that would make the town even better.

A healthy community requires vision. It requires leaders willing to think beyond the next election and beyond the latest outrage circulating on social media. It requires leaders who see Payson as a place with a future, not merely a retirement community waiting for the clock to run out.

Payson deserves leadership that believes the town can grow, improve, and thrive. The Three Stooges seem content to manage decline while blaming outsiders for every problem.

That may be good politics for the Tea Party crowd, but it is a poor strategy for the future of Payson.

An RV Park in the middle of Payson

 Payson’s Central Park — Or Another RV Park?

Imagine if New York City decided to turn Central Park into an RV park. Most people would think that was a terrible idea. Yet that is essentially what Mayor Steve Otto and his allies are proposing for some of the most valuable publicly owned land in Payson.

The Town of Payson currently owns approximately 21 acres adjacent to the police department. As Payson grows, that land could become one of the community's most important assets. Ramsey Park is already constrained by limited space. In the future, Payson may need room for a recreation center, a swimming pool, expanded public safety facilities, a fire station, or other municipal services. Having multiple public facilities located together can reduce construction and operating costs while creating a true civic center for the community.

Instead, Mayor Otto appears eager to pursue a deal that would convert this strategic public property into an RV park. Why? Payson already owns other land that could potentially be used for that purpose. Once this centrally located property is gone, the opportunity to create a long-term civic campus for future generations will be lost forever.

Mayor Otto recently claimed on KMOG radio that the town paid too much for the property. Yet the developer's own presentation to the Town Council suggested that RV park land in nearby Star Valley is worth approximately $450,000 per acre. Using that figure, Payson's 21-acre parcel would have a value approaching $10 million.

If those numbers are accurate, then the town has not lost money on the purchase—it has gained substantial value. The property may already be worth millions more than the town paid for it.

The real question is simple: Should Payson preserve one of the few large parcels of centrally located public land for future community needs, or should it give up that opportunity for an RV park that could be built elsewhere?

Some opportunities come along only once. This land may be one of them.

HAPPY. BIRTHDAY DONALD

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DONALD!

Back in the hills there's an old saying: "He takes the cake."

No expression has ever described a birthday boy more perfectly.

Most people wait for presents on their birthday. Not Donald. Why wait? If he sees something he likes, he just takes it.

At this year's birthday party, Republicans are expected to yell "Surprise!" as they present him with Canada, Greenland, and possibly a few other countries they found lying around unattended.

Buying a birthday gift for Donald is nearly impossible. Chances are he already acquired it through a combination of self-promotion, creative storytelling, and a generous campaign donor.

Of course, the party menu will feature a gigantic cake covered in gold frosting, with enough candles to trigger a national emergency declaration. The cake will be labeled "The Greatest Cake in History" before anyone has actually tasted it.

Guests will spend the evening competing to see who can offer the most flattering toast. Judges have ruled that facts will not be considered in the scoring.

As the celebration winds down, Donald will remind everyone that it was the largest birthday party ever recorded, despite photographic evidence showing otherwise.

So here's wishing you a tremendous birthday. A fantastic birthday. The best birthday. People are saying they've never seen a birthday like it.

And if anyone objects, just declare it fake news.

Happy Birthday, Donald. May all your wishes be granted by executive order.

Were busted flat

Is Payson Really Broke?

According to Mayor Steve Otto and his allies on the Town Council, Payson is constantly short of money. Residents are told the town cannot afford major improvements. A community swimming pool remains out of reach. Roads continue to deteriorate. Public projects are delayed or abandoned because, we are told, the town simply lacks the resources.

Yet there is an interesting contradiction.

A quick look at Zillow shows more than twenty homes currently listed in Payson for over $2 million. Luxury properties are becoming an increasingly visible part of the community. Wealth is clearly present in Payson, even while town leaders insist the community is struggling financially.

That raises an obvious question: If there is substantial wealth in town, why does local government seem perpetually unable to fund basic community needs?

The issue may not be whether Payson lacks money. The issue may be who is paying taxes, who is receiving tax advantages, and whether the community's tax structure is keeping pace with changing property values.

Across America, working families often hear that there is no money for parks, pools, libraries, road repairs, or public services. At the same time, wealth continues to concentrate at the top. The result is a growing disconnect between what communities need and what local governments claim they can afford.

Payson may be a small town, but it reflects a larger national question: Are public services underfunded because communities are poor, or because the tax burden is not being shared fairly?

Before citizens accept the claim that "Payson is broke," they deserve a transparent discussion about where the money is, who is contributing, and whether everyone is paying their fair share.

That conversation might reveal that the problem is not a lack of wealth. The problem may be how that wealth is distributed and taxed.

What a coincidence

The Traveling Pornography Circus

The other day a friend and I were walking down the street when the conversation drifted, as it often does in Payson, to Jim Ferris and his favorite political hobby: the pornography game.

My friend laughed and said, "You know, they used the exact same book in California."

Imagine that.

The very same book. The very same outrage. The very same speeches. The very same claims that civilization was about to collapse unless somebody rode into town and saved the children.

What are the odds?

Actually, pretty good.

If you pay attention to the right-wing outrage machine, it is always the same game. Somebody somewhere writes a script, and a thousand local politicians start reading from it. One month it's library books. The next month it's drag queens. Then it's immigrants. Then it's woke M&Ms. Then it's windmills causing cancer. The actors change, but the script stays the same.

The pornography panic is particularly useful because it pushes emotional buttons. Nobody wants children exposed to inappropriate material. The outrage merchants know that. So they grab a book, pull out a page, remove all context, wave it around at a council meeting, and announce that Western Civilization is under attack.

The audience gasps.

The politicians collect applause.

And nobody notices that nothing has actually changed except the amount of yelling.

My favorite example remains the Great Cat Litter Box Panic.

Remember that one?

Millions of Americans became convinced that schools across the country were installing litter boxes for students who identified as cats.

Think about that for a minute.

Schools can barely afford pencils. Teachers are buying classroom supplies with their own money. But somehow every school district in America was secretly funding feline restroom facilities.

The story was absurd on its face.

Yet it spread faster than a case of head lice in a kindergarten classroom.

People repeated it at coffee shops.

People repeated it at town halls.

People repeated it on Facebook.

People repeated it on talk radio.

The only thing missing was evidence.

To this day, nobody can seem to identify the mysterious school where hundreds of students are apparently wandering the halls meowing and demanding tuna sandwiches.

The story survives because it was never about facts. It was about fear.

Fear is political gold.

The same thing happens with books.

A book appears somewhere in America. Somebody declares it pornography. Soon the story arrives in Arizona. Then Texas. Then Florida. Then Idaho. Then every small town where a politician wants attention.

The details hardly matter.

The goal isn't to solve a problem. The goal is to create a problem.

Because when people are angry about a library book, they aren't asking difficult questions about roads, budgets, water supplies, housing costs, healthcare, or economic development.

Outrage is a wonderful distraction.

That's why these stories always look so familiar. They're manufactured in bulk and shipped nationwide like frozen pizzas.

This week it's a library book.

Next week it will be something else.

Maybe schools are teaching kids to communicate with aliens.

Maybe city hall is run by communist squirrels.

Maybe Bigfoot is operating a voter registration drive in the national forest.

Who knows?

The details change. The formula never does.

Find a scary story.

Repeat it loudly.

Ignore the facts.

Collect votes.

And if all else fails, tell the dingers there's a litter box in the library.

Somebody will believe it.

A Trip to the Library

 The Three Stooges of Payson politics — Steve Otto, Charlie Bell, and Jim Ferris — remain the darlings of the local Tea Party crowd. The Stooges understand their audience well. They know how to play the Hoopleheads like a fiddle, and nothing excites the simple minded faster than screaming the word “pornography.”

That is where Ferris found his favorite hobbyhorse. According to Ferris, the local library is apparently one dirty magazine away from the collapse of civilization. The latest outrage is a sex education book for young people, the book Sex Is a Funny Word. Ferris and the outrage machine want people to believe the book is some kind of underground porn operation hiding between the cookbooks and the western novels.

Of course, here comes the hypocrisy train rolling down the tracks.

Ferris voted for and supports Donald Trump, a man found liable for sexual abuse, a man whose own recorded words included “grab ’em by the pussy,” and a man who has spent years swimming in scandals involving pornography, affairs, and allegations involving young women. Apparently none of that bothers the morality police in the Tea Party circus. Suddenly standards disappear when the offender wears a red hat.

That is the real trick of modern MAGA politics. Outrage is never about principles. It is about theater. If a library carries a book that explains bodies, consent, puberty, or awkward adolescent questions in a factual way, the Stooges scream “pornography!” loud enough to whip the crowd into a frenzy. But when their political hero behaves like a walking tabloid scandal, silence falls over the room like a church service.

The book itself is not some secret Playboy manual hidden in the children’s section. It is an educational book designed to help kids understand their bodies, relationships, and feelings in a healthy and age-appropriate way. What truly terrifies the culture warriors is not pornography. It is education. Education creates people who ask questions. The Tea Party machine survives on people who do not.

Ferris understands this perfectly. Fear works better than facts. Yell “protect the children” enough times and nobody notices the contradictions standing right in front of them.

And that is why the Three Stooges continue their act. Otto nods solemnly. Bell follows along. Ferris waves the latest culture-war prop in the air. The Hoopleheads clap on command. Meanwhile the real issues facing Payson — roads, water, housing, public services, and economic development — sit ignored while the council stages another performance about books in the library.

The sad part is that none of this is really about books. It is about power. Keeping people angry, frightened, and distracted has become the entire business model of MAGA politics. In that sense, the Three Stooges are not unusual at all. They are simply the local franchise.

Fun with the MAGA cowards

I have a bad habit: teasing the MAGA dingers.

The Hoopleheads admire Trump’s style of lying and try to imitate it. My first real encounter with organized MAGA dishonesty involved a man named Gary Morris.

Years ago, I got into an argument with a group of Republican activists at Republican headquarters. They called the police and I was cited for trespassing. The dingers never tell the end of the story. When the case finally reached court, the prosecutor dropped the charge and all records connected to it.

That was the beginning.

At the time, Gary Morris was head of the local Republican Party. Morris dug through the internet looking for anything he could use against me. Eventually he found an old Facebook post I had made. It was satire. In the picture I wore a MAGA hat and joked that I “wanted to see what it felt like to be stupid.”

Ironically, Morris reposted the photo himself, complete with the insulting caption directed at the Hoopleheads. To this day the dingers still circulate the picture, but somehow the caption always disappears.

Then Morris decided to escalate things.

He filed a restraining order against me and falsely claimed I had a gun. In the satirical Facebook post I had joked about “cleaning my gun.” In reality, I have never owned a handgun. The entire point of the joke was to poke fun at simple-minded gun worship.

At the time, I did not bother fighting the restraining order because I viewed it as a minor annoyance. Later I realized it was part of a pattern Morris would use repeatedly.

I had no idea what kind of lying rat Morris really was until I learned he was telling people I had twice been arrested for assault in North Dakota.

Here was the trick: Morris found another man with the exact same name as mine living in Stanton, North Dakota, who actually had assault charges. I never lived in Stanton, although I once lived about fourteen miles away. That was enough for the Hoopleheads to spread the lie endlessly.

Morris also found a YouTube video involving Senator Cramer. In that incident I confronted Cramer over a young woman with a disabled baby. I wanted to give the senator money to pass along to help her, but he refused to take it. I finally stuffed the money into his shirt pocket.

The story spread wildly, and suddenly the Hoopleheads were claiming I had “assaulted” Senator Cramer.

One major problem with that story: Senator Cramer himself publicly stated on a radio program that I did not assault him. Morris ignored that inconvenient fact and kept spreading the lie anyway.

I cannot prove it, but there is considerable evidence that Morris or one of his allies made a false report to Senator Cramer’s office while pretending to be me. Whoever made the call stirred things up enough that Capitol Police investigators flew all the way to my home in Payson to question me.

Two investigators interviewed me for roughly an hour. My guess is they checked my phone records, realized I had never made the call, and quietly concluded the entire thing was political theater. I never heard from them again.

But Morris was not finished.

Angry over his constant lying, I confronted him at a Tea Party meeting. Morris refused to discuss any of it and instead claimed that merely confronting him amounted to assault. Once again he filed for a restraining order.

This time I fought back in court.

Morris claimed under oath that I had spit on him. That was false. A friend who witnessed the entire encounter was prepared to testify that no such thing happened.

During the hearing, I asked Morris where the spit supposedly hit him. He answered, “It was a spray.”

That was lie number one under oath.

Next I asked him where he obtained the information claiming I had assault charges in North Dakota. Morris claimed it came from a Washington Post article.

Another lie.

The article actually said the opposite.

That made lie number two under oath.

I even had video footage of the confrontation with Morris, but the judge refused to allow it to be shown. Interestingly enough, the judge was a Republican whom Morris had helped elect. Funny how that works sometimes.

Morris continued spreading the false assault story for years afterward. One day I heard him repeating it on KMOG radio. I called in to confront him, though at the time I did not realize he was the guest on the program.

Not long afterward, police arrived at my home, arrested me, and hauled me off to jail.

Another political setup.

The second courtroom encounter with Morris turned out very differently from the first. This judge was from Scottsdale and, unlike the earlier experience, actually seemed interested in facts.

I argued that Morris was a pathological liar. This time I brought witnesses who testified directly about Morris’s dishonesty.

In court, Morris was exposed as a liar.

The following week he resigned from his position in the Republican Party.  

The lying Morris started became a tradition in the local Hooplehead community. Michael Heather picked up the lie, and when I confronted him he fled just like the rest would. The man who is now Mayor of Payson and the darling of the local Tea Party , Steve Otto spread the lie. When Gary Morris lied on KMOG radio the radio station broadcast a retraction the next day. In the presence of the people at town hall waiting for the meeting to begin, I confronted Steve Otto about his lying. He refused to talk and claimed I assaulted him. 

On Facebook the Hoopleheads continue to lie although public records are available to prove them wrong. Some of the liars are Denise Alexander, Paul Frommelt and others. I have offered to meet all the liars in a public forum to debate the lies, but they want no part of it. Frommelt says he carries a gun, but he still uses the standard line of the liars that I might hurt him. To explain the entire story of the Republican liars is too long for today, but in closing I will say Trump has made lying a sport among his followers. 

One thing that explains MAGA liars and how they function. If an honest person tries to attend a Hooplehead Tea Party meeting and ask questions that embarrass the liars on stage they will be prohibited from coming again. If the Tea Party or Republican Party has one of their featured liars at a meeting normal people are stopped at the door. On the other hand anyone is welcome and allowed to speak at the Democratic meetings. Try to tell a MAGA the truth and they claim assault and lie on line like its going out of style. 

Anyone can search public records, I had a Bill Butcher and Associates Dectective agency give me a notarized copy of a search of all records in the United States that involved me. There is no record I have ever been convicted or hurt anyone. However, Denise Alexander, Paul Frommelt, and the rest of them go on lying with no shame. I checked my own public records I found a couple traffic tickets, and the case that was dismissed when they drummed up the arrest at Republican Headquarters, but they still go on lying. It is the same with some of Denise Alexanders current lies. I was arrested for being a Democrat and put in jail. One big problem for Denise, and Paul, the charge was thrown out before I ever went to court. That is the way the Republicans in Payson work. They falsely accuse you of something, get you arrested, and then when you go to court the charges are dismissed. However, they lie on line claiming you were guilty. Like Trump they don't have an once of decency, and cheating, lying, and stealing doesn't bother them at all. To take the cake they pray before they lie. 

The liars will not show up.

 A favorite excuse for Denise Alexander and Paul Frommelt to not answer the call for a public debate is I would hurt them. Imagine attacking these lying cowards on a public stage. I told the dolts they can bring a gun and I will come armed only with the truth. In Payson the police have been weaponized just like Trump has done with the presidency. Republicans have filed false charges against me several time. I have actually been jailed as a result of their tactics. However, Frommelt, and Denise Alexander never mention the false charges were thrown out in court. I have a surprise cooking for these liars. I am not sure I can reveal it at this time, but it will expose their game once and for all. Every one of these Tea Party liars is the same. I walk up to them and ask them to defend the lies they have been spreading, and what do they do? Gary Morris, and Steve Otto claim I assaulted them when I asked them in person to stand behind their lies. Of course the most recent ones playing the game do not have an once of courage. I have invited them to come to Democratic headquarters and discuss their lies. All they can do is make up some silly excuse. As the record shows I have never assaulted anyone. At one time I did shove 23 dollars down the shirt of Senator Cramer in Mandan. The money was for a woman with a baby that has birth defects. Now who would be afraid to have money shoved down their shirt? Cramer himself said on Rob Port's radio show I did not assault him, but the liars have spread this story endlessly. Gary Morris was the man who cooked up the original lie. Anyone can search the court records and find out for themself. There is no record that I ever assaulted anyone in the United States, however it gives the cowards a way out of public debate. The truth is long and complex. It all started in 2017. To explain the circumstances to the lairs would take a little time. The key to Republican lying is to leave out most of the story, particulary the end. Recently I encountered one of these liars in a local park. The incident went to court. The prosecutor saw the lying was so ludicrous he threw it out instantly. However Paul Frommelt, and Denise Alexander only tell the part where I was set up. Trump their hero want to give your tax money to the people who lie for him. This is the modern Republican party that pardons drug dealers and pays the people who attacked the Capitol for Trump. One thing that amazes me is these people will lie in court. I asked Gary Morris where he got the notion I was arrested twice in North Dakota for assault. This was in front of a judge. Gary Morris said it was in the Washington Post. Yes, there was an article that said no one was arrested when I shoved the money down Cramer's shirt. The liars recently cited that article again. Of course they only show part of it. That is the game, only tell part of the story. Lying comes naturally to these people. If you go to a Tea Party meeting you will find a stage with one person lying, and a group sitting in front of them believing the lies. No one is allowed to show up at the Tea Party who does not go along with the lying. On the other hand when the Democrats meet the microphone is passed to anyone who wants to speak. No one has ever been turned away from a Democratic meeting. On the other hand the local news reporter was thrown out of a Tea Party meeting, and numerous people are not allow to attend their functions. Judge for yourself who is telling the truth. 

In this explanation of MAGA liars I would comment two women I respect. Inga, and Shirley Dye. I disagree with both of them politically, but these two women met with me and heard my side of the stories that are told. That is the fair thing to do and both of these women have far more integrity than the lying gang. Inga and I had a nice discussion, and Shirly came to my house and we also met at the Golf Course. This blows a hole in the excuse the other liars use. 

Inviting the liars.

MAGA liars are special. Trump has show the MAGA crowd the power of lying. The local liars love Trump because he has shown them the power of lies. Locally we have the Three stooges on town council. Steve Otto is the mayor and he like to tell a whooper now and then. The town is cursed with the Tea Party which is like a liars fan club. Then you have the facebook liars. They are almost too numerous to count. The tactic they love is telling part of a story. Two classic liars in this regard are Denise Alexander and Paul Frommelt. Both cite instances where the local police were used to harass me. It all started with Gary Morris, a man who doesn't hesitate to lie under oath in court. Gary made false claims on restraining order against me. In court the lies fell apart. Recently a MAGA liar named Tom Hall lied to the police. The case was dismissed even before it was started. The MAGA liars always tell the beginning, but never the end. No one denies Trump lies. Strangely every Payson liar loves Trump. I have invited all the liars to meet me in public and defend the lies they tell. Of course none of them have the courage. 

What is a Dinger

A word of description Kadizzle cannot resist is dinger. Well, what is a dinger? The use of the word comes from old vaudeville shows. When a performer was terrible or performing badly someone would ring a bell. The performer would have to leave the stage. Maybe a stage hook would be used. In Payson we have a club full of dingers. It is called the Tea Party. 

We The People.

 You see the words in a lot of places " We the people". Sadly it has never happened, any black or poor person can tell you that. The real people who own and run the government are the billionaire class. The tax rate on the rich has gone down by a staggering amount. Now the top few people have most of the wealth. Voting with money does not represent "We the people".

Start another week

 Here we go, start another week. The weather in Payson has been excellent. Winky was up at the Grand Canyon trying to do some volunteer work, but Cliff got sick and that fell apart so Winky is coming home early. The gathering under the Willow tree in Green Valley Park has commenced. Almost every evening a group sits under the Willow tree and shoots the breeze waiting for the sun to go down. Come join the group. The conversation varies from politics to any subject you want. 

Kadizzle has tried to separate his political rants from just every day BS. If you want todays political rant about the worthless Eli Crane go over to the other blog. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Have a nice ebike ride

Up very early Kadizzle and Winky headed to Fort McDowell to bike. The county part has excellent bike trails and with our new ebikes it was a pleasure to go 21 miles gliding through the desert. Out trips there have enabled us to meet new people enjoying the exercise. The trails suit old goats very well. Kadizzle has been promoting trails for the older crowd in Payson. Get on board. 

Two factions

Payson has two major factions. One faction planned poorly for retirement, and the other faction planned well. Those who planned want progress and a clean prosperous town. Those who are squeaking by just want to be comfortable until they die. The Tea Party and Trump represent the faction living on the edge with nothing by a social security check. The Tea Party faction just wants to keep the cost of getting to the graveyard low. Those who planned want to enjoy the trip to the graveyard with a nice town full of amenities.  Progressives are doing just that trying to make progress. The conservative faction just wants a good fantasy that justifies their existence. Fortunately the prosperous are in the majority. Sadly the vocal people on the edge of poverty are steering the ship. It is time for the majority to take control.

No encomprehende

 Milo and Kadizzle have been working together. Milo speaks little English. It seems to be a lesson in how people of different tribes used to communicate. The phone is a savior translating. The phone is not perfect and sometimes makes some odd mistakes, but we get the job done. 

Simple minded Hoopleheads

Rolling Coal on Peaceful Protesters: Weakness Disguised as Toughness

There is a certain kind of man who believes owning a lifted pickup truck gives him authority over everyone else. He rumbles down Highway 87, chest puffed out, certain that horsepower is the same thing as character. Then he sees peaceful protesters exercising their constitutional rights, and suddenly he has found his mission: stomp the accelerator, belch black diesel smoke, and imagine he has struck a blow for freedom.

What he has really done is advertise insecurity.

“Rolling coal” on peaceful protesters is not courage. It is not patriotism. It is not strength. It is a childish tantrum performed through an exhaust pipe. When someone uses a machine to intimidate people standing with signs, he is not defending America—he is mocking the very freedoms he claims to support.

Peaceful protest is woven into the history of this country. Workers marched for fair wages. Women marched for the right to vote. Civil rights leaders marched for equality. Veterans have marched for justice. Protest is as American as the flag itself. Trying to smother that tradition under a cloud of diesel smoke is an insult to every generation that fought for liberty.

The irony is hard to miss. Many of these same men complain endlessly about “respect,” “law and order,” and “free speech”—until someone they disagree with speaks. Then respect disappears, law becomes harassment, and free speech becomes something to be choked out with pollution.

There is also something deeply pathetic about mistaking noise for power. Real strength is debating ideas. Real confidence is hearing opposing views without losing control. Real masculinity is self-command, not childish rage. Anyone can mash a gas pedal. It takes maturity to act like an adult.

Communities deserve better than grown men using public roads as stages for petty political theater. Highway 87 should be for travel, not for bullying displays from people who confuse aggression with principle.

If your best answer to peaceful protesters is a cloud of black smoke, then the protesters are not the ones who look foolish.

Twisting

 The guy who wants to close the library acts like he cares about young people. Jim Ferris on the town council of Payson is a relic from the stone age. Ferris is one of the three stooges that represent the Tea Party at town hall. Ferris tried to deprive the library of funding claiming the library promoted pornography, classic right wing crap. 

A bunch of good people got together and built a moutian bike course on city property. For the grand opening there he was the guy who has done everything in his power to ruin the life of the young people in Payson showing up for the opening. As if that was not puke sickening enough Laurie Miller the hack for Eli Crane was also there making points for Eli. Miller presented the head of recreation with a certificate from Crane for building the course. Crane turned down 17 million dollars he could have used to help his district, another phony Trump whistledick trying to suck the blood of the good people. Hopefully the Tea Party gang will be defeated in the mid term elections. 

Sam the Hooplehead

Kadizzle did not write this, but it is excellent. 

Sam is 61 years old and lives in a town where the Applebee’s closed in 2014 and people still mention it like it was a natural disaster. The old factory shut down years ago, but Sam keeps his faded employee badge in a kitchen drawer because he considers it proof that America peaked sometime around 1987, right between the release of Top Gun and the invention of low-flow toilets. He firmly believes the country began collapsing the moment they stopped letting people smoke in restaurants and started putting kale in things.

He wakes up every morning at 5:12 a.m., not because he has anywhere to be, but because decades of shift work, untreated sleep apnea, and permanent low-grade outrage have hardwired his body into a permanent state of agitation. He shuffles into the kitchen wearing camouflage pajama pants and a T-shirt that says “I Stand for the Flag” even though he has not stood up quickly without groaning since 2009. He pours himself coffee strong enough to power farm equipment and settles into his recliner to begin his daily ritual of becoming personally offended by things happening hundreds or thousands of miles away. Within half an hour, he is enraged about crime in Chicago, drag queens in Seattle, wind turbines in California, and a college professor in Vermont he has never heard of and never will again.

Sam spends most of his time marinating in an ecosystem of Facebook memes, talk radio, Fox News, chain emails, YouTube clips, and badly designed websites with names like Patriot Eagle Freedom Truth News. By noon, he has shared seven posts warning that America is under attack by socialists, immigrants, vegans, pronouns, electric stoves, and people who use the phrase “lived experience.” He believes every story because every story confirms what he already feels: that the country has been stolen from people like him and handed over to people he does not understand.

Sam is absolutely convinced he is one of the last remaining “real Americans,” despite living in a county entirely populated by people who also think they are the last remaining real Americans. He misses the America of his youth, which in his memory was a magical place where every man had a factory job, every woman made tuna casserole, every child respected authority, and nobody had tattoos, gluten allergies, or opinions about gender. He is nostalgic for a version of the country that mostly exists as a combination of old pickup truck commercials, Toby Keith songs, and stories his grandfather exaggerated after three beers.

His truck is the size of a military vehicle and has never once carried anything heavier than mulch and emotional baggage. His pickup truck is so large that small birds alter their migration patterns to avoid it. The truck has never hauled lumber, gravel, or equipment, but it does haul an enormous amount of political anxiety. The back is covered in bumper stickers warning that he is armed, angry, and deeply suspicious of the federal government, except for when it comes to Medicare, Social Security, highways, farm subsidies, police funding, veterans’ benefits, and keeping its hands off his lawn. He likes to tell people he is “not political,” which is impressive considering his entire personality has become an endless loop of cable news grievances.

He cannot attend a barbecue, church picnic, football game, or grandchild’s birthday party without eventually bringing up inflation, Hunter Biden, gas stoves, “the border,” or how nobody can say Merry Christmas anymore even though literally everyone still says Merry Christmas.

Then Trump arrived, descending from his golden escalator like a casino-themed prophet sent by God to sell steaks and grievance. Sam had finally found his perfect candidate: a billionaire from Manhattan with multiple mansions, gold-plated bathrooms, and a private jet, who somehow convinced Sam that he understood the pain of a man screaming at the self-checkout machine in Walmart.

Trump was loud, angry, theatrical, and constantly under investigation, which only made Sam admire him more. Every lawsuit, scandal, or indictment was not evidence of wrongdoing. It was proof that Trump was fighting the deep state, the media, the elites, the globalists, the FBI, the Democrats, the RINOs, and possibly the ghost of George Soros.

Every scandal, every lawsuit, every indictment, every accusation became proof that Trump was fighting the corrupt establishment on behalf of “real Americans” like Sam.

At this point, Sam does not support Trump because of policy details. He supports Trump because Trump has become the human embodiment of his anger, nostalgia, confusion, and Facebook feed. Trump says the world Sam remembers can come back, that the people Sam dislikes can be punished, and that all of Sam's frustrations are someone else’s fault.

To Sam, Trump is no longer just a politician. He is a lifestyle brand. He is a martyr, a warrior, a stand-up comedian, a victim, a patriot, and the lead singer of a traveling grievance festival. Sam owns at least three Trump hats, two Trump flags, a Trump coffee mug, a “Never Surrender” T-shirt, and a giant “Let’s Go Brandon” sign in the garage that he insists is “not political, just funny.”

For Sam, that is not politics. That is therapy. Trump is not just a candidate anymore; he is an emotional support billionaire.

He is a spray-tanned security blanket with a private jet. He is the gold-plated, fast-food-fueled mascot Sam clings to whenever the modern world feels confusing, threatening, or insufficiently patriotic.

Trump gives him a ready-made explanation for every disappointment in his life: it is not aging, bad luck, economic change, or his own choices; it is the immigrants, the liberals, the media, the globalists, the vegans, the people with pronouns, and whoever is ruining Christmas this week.

Supporting Trump lets Sam believe there is still someone out there fighting for him.

Sunshine is ending

 Soaking up a little sunshine as the day gets cloudy. Morning entertainment is battling the Hoopleheads. The level of hypocrisy among the unwashed is amazing. In Payson we have the three Stooges, Charlie Bell, Jim Ferris, and mayor Steve Otto. Little Trumpers they play the same game of lying and deceit their pappy does. Kadizzle was blown away watching Bell and Otto praise the library. Maybe they forgot Stooge number three Jim Ferris wanted to defund the library because it promoted pornography. Ordinary people can see right through the Stooges, and Trump, but the special Tea Party glasses show a hero when you look at a worthless lickspittle playing you for a fool. 

One percent own as much as 90 percent.

 

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Reading The New York Times today, Kadizzle wasn’t surprised—but he should have been. One percent of Americans now hold as much wealth as the bottom 90 percent combined. That’s not a functioning democracy. That’s an aristocracy.

We like to pretend we still live in a land of opportunity, but the numbers tell a different story. In today’s America, having ten million dollars doesn’t make you rich—it barely gets you through the front gate. The real power sits far above that level, in a class so wealthy it writes the rules the rest of us live by.

And the political system? It follows the money. It always has. The people in power are tied to the same interests that benefit from this imbalance, and they have little incentive to change it.

Meanwhile, behavior that would destroy anyone else barely makes a dent at the top. Scandals come and go, headlines flare up and fade out, and nothing fundamental changes. Wealth shields power, and power protects wealth. It’s a closed loop.

So what do we do? Mostly, we look away. We normalize it. We cruise along as if this is just how things are supposed to be.

But it’s not normal. It’s not sustainable. And the longer we pretend otherwise, the harder the reckoning will be.

Wi Fi at 35,000 ft.

At last American Airlines has free wifi up in the skyfi. Here the Kadizzles sit on some kind of Airbus headed to Phoenix blasting away at the Hoopleheads. It makes a flight go quicker. Another bonus are the Airpods Kadizzle bought. They are excellent at noise suppression. 

Well tonight Trump will do his best to start World War Three. Who could possibly still support that worthless con man?  

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?

Don't Vote for This Goat

The Tea Party goats will be the ruination of Payson. Steve Otto is the mayor of Payson, and if he is not outsted the town will be set back by years. The goats have already destroyed all hope for a new pool. Instead they want to put duct tape on the old pool and declare it a success. Otto is the leader of the three stooges. Otto, Bell, and Ferris. Those three councilmen only answer to the backward Tea Party. Just like Trump ruination is their goal. If normal citizens vote we can rid the town of these vermin. 
 

The Bumwalkers

Who Has Trump Stomped the Hardest?

When Trump stomps around chasing another dollar, it isn’t the billionaires who feel the boot. The people who get flattened are always the ones at the bottom.

Every town has them. Payson does too. I call them the bumwalkers.

You see them drifting through town—some on bicycles, some pushing a cart, some just wandering on foot. The bumwalkers keep moving because they are busted flat and always think the next corner might be better than the last one. Maybe down the road there will be luck, a job, a break, something. But somehow the road never seems to get them there.

Bad decisions have been their lifelong business model.

Just one rung up from the bumwalkers are the trailer-park Tea Party patriots. Another group that never quite managed to put things together, but they have discovered something powerful: anger.

Trump sells that anger very well. He sells them Bibles with his name on them. He sells them hats. He sells them flags. Mostly he sells them hate wrapped in distorted hope.

And they buy it.

Meanwhile, when oil prices jump and groceries go up, who gets crushed the hardest?

Not the billionaires.

Not Trump.

It’s the people at the very bottom—the same people cheering the loudest at the rallies.

Trump didn’t stomp on the rich.

He stomped on his own customers.

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Did he forget to mess something up?

 Our hero Donald Trump with the golden touch. Trump has destroyed the White House, Climate change progress, energy advancements, and the lives of teenagers. Did he miss anything? Trump picked the most incompetent idiots to run his cabinet. The secretary of health sniffing cocaine off of toilet seats set the standard. Then you have Bondi, and Noam wild bitches lying faster than Trump. 

Will the Goats win?

 Payson is at a crossroads. Will Payson become a nursing home for 16,000 people, or will Payson take advantage of its location and water supply to become a standout community in Arizona? Do the citizens of Payson want the cheapest way to wait for the hearse, or do they want to prosper and live in a community that values the young and old alike? Fortunately some young people with a vision of the future that does not include wheel chairs and cains have stepped up to oust the Ayatolah regime that wants to take us backward. You can vote for change or rot from within. 

Hooplehead regret

 Being simple minded used to be fun. You could drive around town with a couple of flags on the back of your pickup and show people you were an idiot. Now the price of gas has put that out of reach. You could wear your gun to the grocery store, and flaunt your Trump hat. Now people know what an idiot looks like. He made America great? Being an idiot is just too expensive now. 

Hammered

 The retirement saving are blasted. Never lost so much in such a short time. Well Kadizzle can make up for the loss with the savings in gasoling. Wait, that went to hell to. Even the worst MAGA dolt may wake up. One thing a MAGA dolt can focus on is gas prices. Gas prices work for MAGA brains because only three numbers are involved. MAGAs don't notice when Trump steals a billion, but when he tacks on 50 cents to gas that is easy to figure out. 

 I didn't complete high school because my dad told me " Education just confuses people".  I have a good job at Home Depot, and I have saved enough to make payments on my truck. It's not an ordinary truck, it is a truck any true American would be proud of. I have the hood painted to look like an American flag. The flags on the back let everyone know my politics. In the glove compartment is my gun, and if anyone objects to me rolling coal out the exhaust f**k around and find out. No one who sees my cowboy hat and belt buckle is going to question my manhood. The women love me. My girlfriend has a good job at the vape shop, and our trailer is brand new. Anyone would be jealous of the 86 inch tv we watch Fox News on. 

Where are the hats?

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For a while it seemed like every third person in town was wearing one of those silly Trump hats. You couldn’t walk into a grocery store without seeing a red cap bobbing down the aisle like a warning flag for common sense.

But lately something strange has happened. The hats are disappearing.

Where did they go?

Are the Hoopleheads embarrassed now? Confused? Or just quietly trying to pretend they were never part of the circus in the first place?

And what about the gunslingers? Not long ago some folks felt the need to parade around the grocery store like extras in a low-budget western. These days the pistols aren’t quite as visible. Maybe the urge to cosplay as Wyatt Earp while buying milk has finally worn off.

The stickers and flags are fading too. Fewer pickup trucks screaming political slogans. Fewer yards decorated like campaign headquarters.

So what happened?

Did reality finally seep in? Did the spell break? Or are some of the most brick-headed dolts in the country finally waking up and realizing they’ve been played?

It’s hard to say.

But one thing is certain: the noise has gotten a little quieter. And when the noise dies down, sometimes that means people are starting to think.

Which, around here, would be a refreshing change.

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Up in the Morning

 Old Kadizzle slept pretty well last night, so he got up about 5 A.M. Oh, what a wonderful world. Who will we bomb today? Maybe some school girls like the ones Trump likes to rape. A very strange world. Kadizzle did some math this morning. .0002% of the population owns 32 % of everything in our wonderful country. That knowledge inspired Kadizzle to write today's blog over on the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog.  https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

The Payson Roundup post the new letters to the editor early in the morning on Tuesdays. The first thing Kadizzle did was read the letters. Of course the dolts, or Hoopleheads had a few things to write about. One that struck Kadizzle was a Hoopleheae praising the Tea Party Mayor for putting LED lights on main street. Wow, the lights can be made to change color. What an accomplishment. 

Some good news, the town is plagued with the Three Stooges, and the Tea Party mentality, but some good normal people have stepped up to run the stooges out of town hall. Hopefully it will happen.

Ordinary people cannot afford Justice

Justice for Trump — Scraps for the Rest of Us

The American legal system works beautifully if your name is Donald Trump. It bends, twists, delays, and performs acrobatics worthy of Cirque du Soleil. But try using that same system as an ordinary citizen — say, someone like Kadizzle — and suddenly justice becomes a luxury item, priced somewhere between a used car and a beachfront condo.

Kadizzle is filing a federal civil rights claim against the Town of Payson. You would think this is exactly what the courts are for: holding government accountable when it abuses its authority. The most common reaction he gets?

“Good luck.”

And honestly, that’s about right.

Because in Arizona, if you aren’t bleeding, missing limbs, or wrapped around a telephone pole, lawyers want nothing to do with you. There’s no shortage of ambulance chasers, but every single one Kadizzle contacted started with the same question:

“Was anyone hurt?”

Translation:
If they can’t pocket a million, they’re not interested.

On the rare chance they are interested, the going rate is a mere $300–$400 an hour. That’s just to breathe in their general direction.

Over a year ago, Kadizzle was accidentally referred to one of the top civil rights attorneys in the nation. Winning wasn’t the problem — the price tag was. A “cheap” win? $7,500.
A deluxe, fully-loaded, courtroom victory? $75,000.

Imagine needing a mortgage just to get your rights back.

So what do you do when the system is engineered to keep ordinary people out?

You do it yourself.

Kadizzle will be representing Kadizzle — one man against a wall of insurance-company shysters and municipal defense specialists paid very handsomely to crush inconvenient lawsuits. It will be an adventure, or a circus, or both.

And just to get through the courthouse door? Six hundred bucks.
That’s the entry fee for justice in America.

Let’s not kid ourselves:
Justice is not for poor people.
It is not even for regular people.
But it works just fine for Trump — the same system that tied itself in knots to protect a man who bragged about grabbing women like property and has been accused of things far worse.

So yes, Kadizzle will fight.
But the truth is bigger than one case:

America has a two-tiered justice system — one for the rich, and one for the rest of us.

Keep your eyes on the Road

 Payson has a Hooplehead infestation. How did it happen? The normal people did not realize there was an infestation. So what happened. The group infected with brain weavils took over. The Tea Party gang is just about to take over Payson unless normal people awaken. The Three Stooges sponsored by the Tea Party are the termites eating the foundation of Payson. Who do the Threes Stooges represent? The Tea Party caters to those who are busted flat living in a trailer park. These people don't want to take responsibility for the mess they are in, so they thrive on paranoid nonsense. The Stooges know how to play to this group. Guns, flags, false stories are the drugs the Tea Party thrives on. If normal people let the next election go unnoticed Payson is doomed. 

Hope Springs Eternal

Time to Flush the Rodents Out of Payson

It’s no secret: under the direction of the local Tea Party cabal, three political rodents have been gnawing away at Payson. Around town they’re known as the Three Stooges—Steve Otto (Mayor), Jim Ferris, and Charlie Bell—loyal lickspittles to the far-right fantasy machine.

The Tea Party in Payson doesn’t hold meetings; they hold imagination sessions where Trump is recast as a king, a genius, and occasionally the Second Coming. This delusion-pipeline flows straight into the minds of local Hoopleheads and their elected mascots like Eli Crane, who peddle paranoia as if it were patriotism.

Their recipe is always the same:
Hate. Fear. Delusion.
The essential ingredients of a full-strength Tea Party stupor.

But here’s the good news:

Decent, sane, community-minded people have stepped forward to run against the rodents.
The opportunity for change is real. The moment is now.

If you’re tired of watching these burrowing bandits chew through Payson’s future, if you’re ready to reclaim your town from the fantasy-drunk ideologues—then it’s time to wake up, stand up, and help clean house.

Vote the rodents back into their holes.
Payson deserves better.

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Down at the Donut Hall

 Today is Saturday, the day good people fight the Trump dictatorship. Will the serfs rise up. Can donuts do the trick? The crowd is growing at Democratic Headquarters, but then Payson has the Tea Party virus. The breaking point for Payson is coming in the next election. If people sit on their ass and let the Three Stooges take over, Payson is toast. The stooges represent nothing but a march backwards to appease the Hoopleheads at the Tea Party. 

Check out the blog today on the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity. More commonly known as Not the board of Peace.  

Trump is more insane every day, and the Hooples are drunk on delusion. 

Snow on the road

 Not much snow falls in Payson, but it is here, and we have to go to Flagstaff. Winky is worried. She has a doctor appointment. The AZ weather sources for road conditions only list the big roads, and from Payson to Flagstaff is just an old wagon train route. Meanwhile Winky just fed the humming birds they have to eat. 

The old Trumpster is itching to start a war with Iran. The master thief wants people to have a new topic, Epstein doesn't sit well with the pedophile in chief. Meanwhile the insane rat is destroying the Whitehouse. Kadizzle doesn't mind Trump branding. We use Trump toilet paper. It is pricey but it has his picture on it and it feels so go to make Trump do something useful.

The vigilante man

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Kadizzle, Ry Cooder, and the Vigilante Man

Kadizzle has officially become an extreme Ry Cooder fan.

There are musicians you admire. There are musicians you respect. And then there are musicians whose songs crawl inside your head and refuse to leave. Cooder has a way of doing that.

One song in particular has been haunting Kadizzle lately: Jesus and Woody.

It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t scream. It simply observes. And in observing, it cuts.

There’s a line in the song that refers to Trump as a “vigilante man.” That phrase stuck with me. I had to look up the word vigilante to make sure I was using it correctly.

A vigilante is someone who takes the law into his own hands because he believes the law is inadequate. He believes the system is too slow, too weak, too compromised — so he substitutes himself for it.

Sound familiar?

Trump operates from the premise that he is the law. If he doesn’t like a court ruling, it’s corrupt. If he doesn’t like an election result, it’s rigged. If he doesn’t like a prosecutor, it’s political. If he doesn’t like the Constitution, it’s inconvenient.

A vigilante man believes his instincts outrank institutions.

That’s the danger.

In a functioning republic, no one gets to appoint himself judge, jury, and executioner. The rule of law depends on something very unfashionable these days: restraint. It depends on process. It depends on accepting outcomes you don’t personally prefer.

The vigilante mindset rejects all that.

It says:
I know better.
I alone can fix it.
Rules are for other people.

Ry Cooder didn’t have to shout to make his point. He just laid it down in a song. Music has a way of distilling truth into a few simple lines that a thousand political speeches can’t match.

Kadizzle keeps replaying that phrase — “vigilante man.” The more I think about it, the more it fits. Not because it’s dramatic. Not because it’s partisan. But because it describes a worldview.

When a leader starts believing he stands above the law instead of beneath it, the country doesn’t become stronger. It becomes fragile.

That’s why the song lingers.

Sometimes it takes a guitar and a quiet voice to explain what cable news never quite can.

Kadizzle will keep listening.

And thinking.

The rattlesnake bit the dog

Winky warned old Kadizzle about walking in the brush. Apparently a dog was bitten by a rattlesnake yesterday. We are sitting in the Earth Module in an area with plenty of snakes. The snake feared the most is in the White House. Yesterday we rode our bikes to a eating place in the land of the rich. Kadizzle has always been astounded by the real segregation in this country. Enclaves of those reeking with money are hidden all over the country. No, crime, no filth, and none of the worries of the slummers. It works well. Those abused never see where all the spoils of oppression end up. Trump never pushed a lawn mower in his life. In the enclave immangrants are the slaves pruning the shrubbery. Pretend we live in a classless society. The reality is nothing has changed. One group walks off with all the goodies, and everyone left behind doesn't notice or dreams they will hit the jackpot. Welcome to America 2026. May god bless Trump with cancer of the bunghole. 

Bike Wheels will turn

 The bike wheels will turn.  The Kadizzles have made it to McDowel Mountain Park to ride bikes for a couple of days. Trails here are excellent and there are hundreds of miles. The sun is just now coming over the four peaks. You can almost see it move. Our phones are providing internet, and the internet slows down as people awaken. Kadizzle has his new super duper ebike and it will be a pleasure to have more power on the new bike. Have to dream up some topic for the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog. 

The people who host us

 Here we sit in a wonder site at our friends home right on the Catalina mountains. Does it get any better? Sometimes. We have some wonderful friends with wonderful homes, but the real treat is the cooking, and good company. 

Vote for The Tea Party and Hitler comes free

 Don't ever forget, Hitler was elected. Payson is gradually being taken over by the local Nazi faction, you know the guys who go to the fantasy land of Tea Party meetings. The three Stooges, Otto, Bell, and Ferris bathe in the glory of stupidity. Attend a town hall meeting and just listen to these guys bloviate. The best one ever was when Ferris tried to withhold funds from the library because it promoted pornography. These scoundrels would wear Trump mask and shoot people in the back just to bag a terrorist. Nothing appeases the Tea Party in Payson more than a good paranoid fantasy. Otto and his gang ran on the theme the last council was crooked and they would root out the deep state. Once elected they turned over every rock and found nothing. Next, they took the 1% tax the last council instituted, and they promised to remove, and used it to their own glory. Do we want a town run for the benifit of the broke guys living on social security in a run down moble home. If the Tea Party gang is the only group that votes, the I guess you get what you vote for. 

When the Nazis get me

Kadizzle lives in a little MAGA town — a place so deep in the conservative echo chamber it makes our old Republican farm town in North Dakota look like a monastery of honesty. And that’s saying something, because the North Dakota crowd could be crafty and crooked when they wanted to be. But they never perfected the industrial-scale lying and reality-twisting that the Payson Tea Party brigade has turned into an art form.

Payson has its own propaganda mill: KMOG radio, a station that would make Hitler nod in admiration. Their morning ringmaster, Kenny Murphy, presides over the daily ritual — open with a pious prayer, then unleash a flood of grievance, fantasy, and political fairy tales so thick you’d need hip waders to get through it.

Every washed-up politician scraped off the bottom of Trump’s shoe seems to find a microphone at KMOG, eager to retell the gospel of The Big Lie. And our mayor, Steve Otto, happily pays the station to help him spin alternate realities over the airwaves.  The new town manager has already caught on: if you want Tea Party approval in this town, you’d better support the local Ministry of Truth and call it “community outreach.” The town manager has dipped into the town budget to help KMOG along.

Kadizzle has seen it all up close. Years ago, the former local GOP chair, Gary Morris, showed how easily truth can be bent, folded, or tossed aside in a courtroom when party loyalty is on the line. And the mini-MAGA faithful here? They aspire to be just like their idol. They imitate Trump’s swagger, his contempt for facts, and his talent for bulldozing the truth as if it were a sport.

Welcome to Payson — where the hats are red, the lies are loud, and reality is whatever the loudest man on the radio says it is.

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Brother Tom went on to the next game

Remembering Tom

Tom was the second oldest in a family of nine. Kadizzle came in at number seven, which put a good stretch of years between us. I used to joke that Tom was the only one out of nine who never finished college—but he was also the one who built a thriving business from nothing. Mountaineer Excavating rose out of Tom’s stubborn determination and long days servicing the coal mines in the Ohio Valley. Today his son Kevin, armed with an engineering degree, runs the company, shifting its focus to the region’s natural-gas boom. The legacy Tom started keeps rolling on.

Tom’s generosity was legendary. He didn’t just help the community—he helped all of us siblings in ways too many to count. When I was a broke college kid, Tom simply handed me a car. That was just Tom.

I remember the early days when he was driving his own rig, hauling steel and frozen goods across steep mountain terrain. I went along on several trips. One run I’ll never forget—though I somehow managed to sleep through the exciting part.

Tom’s truck lost its brakes barreling down a mountain grade. I was in the sleeper, dead to the world. By the time I woke up, we were gliding into a small town at the bottom. Half asleep, I said, “Tom… that’s a red light, and you’re going right through it.”

Tom, calm as a man ordering a cheeseburger, just said, “I know. I don’t have any brakes.”

That was Tom. Unshakeable. Capable. Quietly steering disaster into something manageable.

The stories about him are endless. I could write pages and still barely scratch the surface. Tom was unique—he played the hand he was dealt and played it well. And it worked.

A mouth full of scripture and a heart full of hate

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The Three Stooges of Sanctimony, Otto, Bell, and Ferris

There they are—the three stooges with mouths full of scripture and hearts full of hate.
Just like Kenny Murphy over at KMOG, they know the choreography by heart:

1. Open with a prayer.

2. Wrap themselves in the Bible.

3. Salute the flag like it’s a magic talisman.

4. Then dive head-first into full-throttle Trump lunacy.

It’s a practiced hypocrisy—smooth, polished, and absolutely shameless. They can quote Corinthians by breakfast and spew conspiracy theories by lunch. Their holy trinity is Fox News, Trumpism, and weaponized ignorance.

Hypocrisy by the Barrel

These folks would deprive kids of a livable future if it meant currying favor with the local Tea Party choir. Kenny, bless his heart, would probably sell his own grandmother into slavery rather than face the reality of what the Republican Party has turned this country into.

Truth, to this crowd, isn’t a value—
it’s an obstacle.

They twist it, bend it, crush it, and when it finally snaps, they plant lies where the truth used to grow. And like weeds, those lies spread. Fast.

God, Guns, and the Grand Delusion

Invoke God?
Check.

Wave the flag?
Check.

Practice a single principle from either?
Absolutely not.

For this crew, the Bible is a prop and the flag is a costume. Christianity becomes a marketing scheme, and patriotism gets shrink-wrapped for radio consumption.

Trump taught them the model:
Greed → grievance → self-promotion → chaos.
They followed like apprentices learning from a master con-artist.

Our Local Disciples of Delusion

Here in our corner of Arizona, they worship at the feet of their chosen saints:
Eli Crane and Wendy Rogers—two of the most enthusiastic torch-bearers for the alternative-reality movement.

Nothing these people say has to be true, it just has to be loud.
Stories matter—
the truth doesn’t.

Give them a conspiracy theory and they’ll swallow it whole.
Give them an honest lecture and they’ll run for the exits.

In the End…

This is what happens when a political movement trades integrity for identity, faith for fury, and country for cult. It becomes a show—loud, angry, and disconnected from reality.

And like all bad shows, it needs three things to stay alive:

• A villain

• A script

• And a cheering section too frightened or too stubborn to admit the obvious

Welcome to the Tea Party gospel,
broadcast daily,
right here in the land that used to be sane.

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I.

Ebike nirvana

 Old Kadizzle was about to go on an ebike ride when he found his ebike would not turn on properly. Hoping to get back with the gang and ride Kadizzle went to the bike shop. In a fit of stupidity Kadizzle bought a new ebike. The new bike is better than peanut butter, more power, and a lot of new features. The specialized Evo 3 has a lot of technology built in, and it is a pleasure to ride. However, it is way more bike than Kadizzle is capable of exploiting all the features. The bike is meant for a crazy person to ride down ski slopes in the summer over rocks and trees, with an occasional jump of ten or fifteen feet. The bike actually measures jumps. The bike cost more than the motorcycle.  As they say you only go around once. 

Now to local politics. Over on The National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog the subject is the local propaganda station. We need you to call the local Fox News outlet KMOG. Read the blog and find out how you can fight the falsehoods. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Up. Early and trying to find some hope

Kadizzle went nuts and bought himself a new ebike. The old one needs a new on off switch and someone could have an ebike for a bargain price. Our team will once more go on an extensive ebike expedition today.  

Like everyone else Kadizzle is enraged with the Trump Nazis. Please go over to the National Association for the Advancement of Humanity blog and read about our local Christie Noem, that would be Kenny Murphy. If you want to puke listen to him on KMOG support the killings in Minneapolis. https://naftaoh.blogspot.com/

Pretend like you don't see this

 

How did we get here

Title: Welcome to the Dictatorship—Please Mind the Lies

Somehow we woke up and discovered we no longer live in a functioning democracy. Federal agents shot two protestors in Minneapolis, and—surprise, surprise—the government assures us they’ll “investigate themselves.” That’s the sort of accountability you expect in a banana republic, not a constitutional democracy.

Then comes Kristi Noem, sprinting to the nearest camera to declare the protestors “terrorists” without a shred of evidence. Not one fact—just a reflexive lie to serve her strongman.

And, as reliably as thunder follows lightning, Trump—now functioning less like a president and more like an autocratic ruler—echoes her lie. Truth has become irrelevant. Evidence is irrelevant. What matters is loyalty to the Leader.

We’re no longer living under a system of laws or justice. Trump has taken in $1.5 billion through the most brazen scheme of political bribery in American history—pardons for cash, foreign deals funneled through family members, and influence for sale to anyone with a checkbook. And yet his loyalists cheer him on. No president in history has lied so much, so often, or so shamelessly.

Meanwhile the Republican Party—once a real political party—has become a full-time propaganda machine. Thousands of dedicated, ethical public servants have resigned rather than serve this new dictatorship.

This is not normal. This is not freedom. This is not the America we were promised.
It’s time to say it plainly: the dictatorship has already arrived, and it arrived wrapped in a red tie, a Fox News chyron, and a mountain of lies.

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