Tag: Reflections

Posted in Tyrannical Trump

The “President” …

Posted on by Neal Saye

… of the United States is insane.

Surely everyone realizes that by now.

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I try not to listen to him, but this short video is worth a few seconds of your time …

https://share.google/q3MTwb7oEp4umFWaM

I realize that many, perhaps most, bloggers don’t want to get into politics. But I believe my United States is at a crossroads, and our current President is steering us down a Deadly Drive, one that will destroy our Democracy. I call upon my fellow bloggers and citizens everywhere to speak out against this tyranny and authoritarianism. If we love our country, we must.

Speak Out!

Posted in How Has It Come to This?

Tuesday Toxicity

Posted on by Neal Saye

I find it increasingly difficult to look at the news—from any source—these days. Trump’s Toxic Totalitarianism is literally day by day destroying the soul and self of what used to be the United States.

I feel that we MUST speak out against this administration’s resolve to annihilate our democracy.

A few headlines today …

WTOC

Hmmm …

An untruthful Trump campaign sign

Hitler-esque evil …

WTOC

A deadly regime …

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Lack of respect …

WTOC

Unreasonable Hatred …

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Spineless cronies …

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Anti-freedom-of-education …

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We MUST speak out against these injustices.

We MUST rebel and vote evil out of control.

Posted in The “United” States

I Wonder If …

Posted on by Neal Saye

I wonder if all the people who voted for Trump are happy about and supportive of his continuing acts of strongman tyranny.

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Is this the kind of president they want?

Is this the kind of country they want?

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oxfordlanguages

Posted in My Saturday Evening Post

My Saturday Evening Post: 4/12/25 “Night Light Life”

Posted on by Neal Saye

Robert and I were walking through Telfair Square here in Savannah last night after dinner. The statue-laden Telfair Academy (the first public art museum in the South, 1888) shone incandescently, perhaps a bit eerily, exuding both pride and remorse in our city’s problematic past.

I paused and gazed up into the heavy, meandering limbs of the ancient Live Oak trees, limbs laden with both desiccated (for now) resurrection fern and new, brilliant green spring leaves.

Death and life together.

The street light could not illuminate all their crevices.

“Some of these trees have to be older than the academy itself,” I thought, as we walked out of the past. “If only trees could talk!”

A light breeze kneaded the old and the new together, causing an audible whispering in the leaves.

And that’s my Saturday Evening Post.