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@bloggingbaker.bsky.social

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Not all of this will make sense. Uncomfortable by design.

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bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · Sep 11

The irony is not lost. It knows exactly where it is.

Reposted

robynhitchcock.bsky.social @robynhitchcock.bsky.social · 2h

Wherever you stand on Stephen Stills, his line “Paranoia strikes deep” pretty much sums up human life as we live it now. Good on ya, Steve 👍

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Raider @iwillnotbesilenced.bsky.social · 12h

This Is Fascism

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bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 1h

He entertained his piranha
by playing Nirvana
the fish sang along
and grew their hair long
then they all formed a pit
and moshed for a bit
soon all would retire
to a barrel of fire
and smoke to get high
til the sun would come by

Oh wait
It wasn't piranha
I meant to say iguana

#vss365

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bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 2h

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bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 11h

Vetting each drip
Not one drop will dare slip
through a fabric so fine
that the rain there in Spain will not pass the divine
the non-infiltration of water
with a scientifically developed polymer that provides no quarter
my raincoat from Sears
after all of these years

#vss365

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Reposted

Jeff VanderMeer @jeffvandermeer.bsky.social · 13h

This heartfelt and meaningful statement by Portland resident and author Cristina Breshears on another social media platform bears reposting here. I don't think the intent is to idealize Portland but to remind all of us what is important and why. (Posted here with permission.)

For nine nights now, the steady thrum of Black Hawk helicopters has circled over Portland. The sound is constant, invasive; a low mechanical beating above our homes. It’s expensive. It’s intimidating. And it’s unnecessary.

Our protests have been largely peaceful. There is no insurrection here. Yet this federalized military presence makes us feel like we are living in a war zone (the very kind of chaos this administration claims to be protecting us from).

The irony is painful: it is only this occupation that makes Portland feel unsafe.

Each hour of helicopter flight costs taxpayers between $2,000 and $4,000, depending on crew, fuel, and maintenance. Multiply that by multiple aircraft over multiple nights, and you’re looking at hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of dollars burned into the sky.

Meanwhile, the Woodstock Food Pantry at All Saints Episcopal Church — which feeds working families, elders, and people with disabilities — has seen its federal funding slashed by 75%. How can we justify pouring public money into intimidation while cutting aid to those who simply need to eat?

This is waste, fraud, and abuse in plain sight:
* Waste of public resources on military theatrics.
* Fraud in the name of “public safety.”
* Abuse of the communities that federal agencies claim to protect.

Portland is a Sanctuary City. A sanctuary city is not a fortress. It’s a promise — a living vow that a community will protect the dignity and safety of everyone who calls it home. It means that local governments and ordinary people alike will refuse to criminalize survival. That schools, clinics, churches, and shelters will remain safe spaces no matter who you are or where you were born. But the term reaches far beyond policy. It’s an ethic of belonging; a refusal to criminalize need, difference, or desperation.

Sanctuary isn’t weakness. It’s courage. It takes moral strength to meet suffering with care instead of punishment, to believe that our neighbors’ safety is bound up in our own, to insist that safety is not achieved through force but through community, inclusion, and trust. It is living Matthew 25:40 out loud and in deed. It is an act of moral imagination and moral defiance. To hold sanctuary is to say: you belong here.

When we hold space for the most vulnerable — refugees, the unhoused, the undocumented, the disabled, the working poor, the displaced — we become something larger than a collection of individuals. We become a moral body. We do more than offer charity. We offer witness. We declare that the measure of a nation is found not in its towers or tanks, but in its tenderness.

Sanctuary cities are not lawless; they are soulful. They represent the conscience of the nation, a place where the laws of empathy still apply. To make sanctuary is to affirm that the United States is not merely a geographic territory, but a moral experiment: a republic that must constantly choose between fear and compassion, between domination and democracy.

A nation’s soul is measured not by the might of its military, but by the mercy of its people. When helicopters circle our skies in the name of order, while food pantries struggle to feed the hungry, we are forced to ask: What are we defending, and from whom? The soul of a nation survives only when we make sanctuary for one another. Not through walls or weapons, but through compassion and collective will. If we allow intimidation to replace compassion, we will have traded our conscience for control.

Please know that despite the hum of war machines overhead, the conscience of our city — whimsical, creative, stubbornly kind — can still be heard.

Portland is not the problem. Portland is the reminder. A reminder that a city can still choose to be sanctuary. That a people can still choose to be human.

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bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 23h

I'm surprised that I'm old
that there's gray in my hair
I'm startled to find
my youth isn't there

It went out for cigs
and it hasn't come back
but I'll leave the door open
just a sliver, just a crack

bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 23h

What shall we do with time
and its accumulated grime
should we wash it from our hands
because what's done is done
and when we have won
should we write a memory song
celebrating time's longevity
lamenting its vast brevity

What shall we do with time
Maybe after dinner
let's discuss
why all the fuss

bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 1d

The whisper of leaves
is the call of the trees
It's a call no one hears
with these buds in our ears

bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 1d

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bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 1d

How grateful we are
to lord up above
who descends upon us
like shit from a dove.

bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 1d

Still awake.
And you?

bloggingbaker.bsky.social @bloggingbaker.bsky.social · 1d

We caught a verve in the wild just before it leapt into enthusiasm.
Once it was caged, we studied it for signs of excitement, but we were disappointed. Captivity neutered its cheery and optimistic nature. Instead of a classic verve, we witnessed a defeated verve watching Major Dad reruns.

#vss365