Another Fourth of July and Harvey the dog survived. I’m going to start with the photos because I have a lot of boring stuff to say about politics, so we will begin with the more interesting diary gallery part. On Sunday I walked Harvey over by Bumble, which is, hmmm, I have lived here long enough now where I could give a long soliloquy on what this is and what used to be there but! It’s in the neighborhood and it was raining. That’s Young’s Bay. On Monday we went for a walk on the sawmill trail and spotted this mama duck and her children. She was an extremely good mother and we were all impressed. Tuesday, here, have some slightly surreal backlit daisies growing out of the stone wall. Wednesday shows Mr. Binks being his theatrical photogenic self – I mean. I mean, is that not an amazing photo? Is he not just too much? He is too much. He’s also finally mostly tame. It only took 18 months. Thursday evening, and there were actually 6 deer in this herd in my front yard. People outside Astoria don’t quite grasp the scale of the deer issue here. We have deer like other people have, I don’t know, sparrows or something. And yes, they’re cute, but OMG they eat everything. Friday, July 3, I went clamming in the morning with my friend and got 8 clams which were all very delicious; Four and I cooked them up for dinner. Saturday and, hey baby, it’s the fourth of July.

And now, the political part. Yesterday was rough. I would not have described myself as a patriot, ever in my life. But watching Washington DC being dismantled by a complete fucking moron has gotten me in the feels, as the kids say. I mean, I am also beyond outraged at everything that has happened since January 2025, and granted the reflecting pool and the east wing of the White House and etc., is small potatoes compared to the utter and absolute destruction caused by, just to take two, dismantling Medicaid and offering up our public lands to the highest bidder, but somehow it makes me cry. The others make me fume in impotent rage and fire off faxes and emails to my representatives but, oh my god, DC. I’ve been to DC. I lived in Baltimore for years. I know the Smithsonian if not well then passingly. I went on an 8th grade class trip to DC like almost all east coast American kids of a certain age and we toured the White House. The travesty of what that creature, that idiotic tyrant, that would be Caligula of faux Christianity is doing to DC beggars the imagination.

I will say that some of it has been darkly hilarious. Bluesky has had some threads about the Freeeedome USA travesty on the mall that are fantastic, to say nothing of the incredible saga of the reflecting pool. I enjoy a good scandal as much as the rest of us. The reflecting pool is a gift that keeps on giving. But the arch and the state fair that was not, and the fireworks at midnight are less funny.

I cried about Jackie Kennedy’s rose garden, turned into a Mar A Lago style outdoor restaurant, jesus christ almighty, and the destruction of the First Ladies’ wing and then I nearly cried or threw up or both when the giant cage was installed for a fight on the White House lawn. It’s disgusting. The ballroom plans are disgusting. It’s horrifying and it’s somehow more graspable than the giant atrocities on an immediate human me scale. I mean, I remember the Bicentennial. I was 12. It was kind of great. Everything was red white and blue and there was no president’s name on anything. I decorated my bike with red white and blue crepe paper and we all rode in a parade. The tall ships went by and we could see them with Dad’s binoculars. I am absolutely beside myself that that experience was stolen from my children and your children and everyone’s children by a pedophile failed real estate tycoon with an IQ of 73* and a demon where his soul should be. Because he did steal it. He stole it and kept the money and lied and cheated and yet, he’s still in office instead of a penitentiary. In 1976 at least the American people had managed to send Nixon back to San Clemente. Not enough, but something. But here we are, the horrors mount, the desecration continues, the racism, the staggering corruption, the destruction of the country continues apace. Do you think voting blue no matter who will change any of that? Because if so I have a bridge to sell you.

Anyway, I woke up yesterday morning and I listened to this song and then I listened to this song and while I was listening to this song I cried, I actually cried. I do not, as a rule, cry. I am not a shedder of tears. I am an old Gen Xer (I’ll die on this hill, do not fuck with me on it) and I am made of spite and iron and Hostess Yodels. Almost everything and everyone I have ever loved has either been ripped away or fucked me over, or sometimes, on a good day, both. I hate this goddamn excuse for a racist piece of shit country full of murdering morons and at the same time I love the idea, the thought, the dream of a country where people might actually be equal. My fucking country is complicated but that does not mean I’m okay with the worst of the US stealing it. I’m ashamed that my family has been part of the worst of this country and I’m weirdly proud that my family has been here since the early 18th century. I can hate and love it at the same time: I contain multitudes. And I will tell you that all the multitudes and all my ancestors hate Donald Trump and his cronies and everyone associated with them with a white hot passion that will not cease. And we are also mourning for all that has been broken and lost forever. Those fucks. Those utter fucks. They stole the 4th of July.

* I know it’s been snopesed and I don’t care. He constantly says Low IQ individuals and I am done going high, I am ready to go low.