Hyper AND Local: Dewpoints, Garbage, And The Great Prestidigitation

Fought our way up and out of the sinusy cloud that enveloped us at O Early Thirty this morning only to learn from our pals at the National Weather Service (aka N-Dubs) that 60 degree dewpoints had lent the morning its muggy sense of strangulation. It’s always good to know the science behind your discomfort, we say.

Unable to breathe or go back to sleep we padded into The Bunker to set up shop, checking our email and overnight (if you can call a 2-hour window of half-sleep “overnight”) Flashes from our readership (aka The Flashers.)

We went to the music early on, as is our tradition on Sunday Mornings, schlepping around in Bunny Slippers while priming the Espresso Fountain – rewarded with Shirley Manson and Garbage and Shirley getting our slippers moving with “Only Happy When It Rains.” And some rain would Shirley be nice right now.

Scrolling through an in-basket of Great White Shark videos and Ukrainian drone strikes we drilled down into the local stuff – fielding questions about an air ambulance landing in San Ramon (2 year old apparently fell out a third story window), the Lafayette woman who struck and killed crossing guard Ashley Dias (community service, no driving for a year), and requests for updates on the investigation/findings on the fatal collision which killed Moraga cyclist Roger Russell (no updates).

Apparently someone caught a round to the shoulder in a Richmond homeless encampment this morning and someone else was reportedly resorting to Old School weaponry and brandishing a crossbow at neighbors – who responded with boulders and boiling oil from their ramparts.

Let’s see, apparently someone with real chutzpah fired up his leaf blower at around 5 a.m. – on a Sunday – righteously ticking off a neighbor and, no, it wasn’t us. Our morning was blissfully quiet (if congested), but if anything will get your invitation to the neighborhood block party suspended it would be revving up the old Satan’s Whistle before Reveille sounds on a Sunday morn.

And while we have been castigated ad nauseam for setting foot beyond our immediate borders we also received a steady flow of videos on the arrest of 31 Pathetic Front street fighters busted as they trundled their way to do – something – at a Gay Pride event in Coeur d’Alene yesterday. Of course, the group’s chosen method of transportation was quickly dubbed a “U-Heil” truck and admitted non-fans are now setting about identifying them as they were unhooded by sheriff’s deputies. Look for the usual Internet detective work and photos to arrive at places of employment in 11 states in the next few days.

The bust in Idaho (nice work by law enforcement up there, by the way) was an added punctuation to the right’s attempt to paint the recent J6 Committee hearing as a “boring re-hash” of a peaceful tourist visit – albeit with bear spray, body armor, and baseball bats. We see it as an extension of The Great National Prestidigitation currently underway: “Never mind January 6, what about the dem’s sexual grooming of our young and $5 gasoline?”

It remains to be seen if that sleight of hand works on a populace which has proven to be preternaturally gullible in the past, but you never know. This is America after all.

Happy Sunday.