Esoteric Meandering Shouting Into the Void

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

The cosmos does not owe humanity a promise of safety. We live on a fragile rock orbiting an average star in a galaxy filled with chaotic forces beyond our control. While Earth has survived for billions of years, history reminds us that planetary disasters are not hypothetical—they are inevitable given enough time. Looking at the next hundred years, the most plausible intergalactic or cosmic threats come not from distant galaxies, but from far closer to home: asteroids, comets, and other celestial debris crossing Earth’s orbital path.

Asteroids and Near-Earth Objects (NEOs)

The most immediate concern for planetary safety comes from near-Earth objects. Tens of thousands of asteroids pass within striking distance of our planet every year. Most are harmless pebbles that burn up in the atmosphere, but some are big enough to flatten cities or destabilize the global climate. NASA and the European Space Agency track over 30,000 NEOs, but estimates suggest that hundreds of thousands remain undiscovered. The dinosaurs did not see their killer coming 66 million years ago, and without constant surveillance, we might not either.

An asteroid roughly 50–100 meters wide—smaller than many football stadiums—could destroy a major city. The 1908 Tunguska event in Siberia, caused by an object no larger than 60 meters, flattened over 800 square miles of forest. A 300–500 meter impactor would be capable of regional destruction, collapsing economies and killing millions. And anything larger than one kilometer across could trigger a global catastrophe—crop failures, mass extinctions, and what scientists call an “impact winter.”

Known Potential Threats

Several asteroids have stirred public fear. In 2029, Apophis—a 370-meter-wide asteroid—will pass closer to Earth than many satellites. Scientists now know it will miss us, but it will be a stark reminder of how close cosmic roulette can get. In 2089, asteroid 2025 FA22 was once thought to pose a slim threat, though calculations show it will sail safely past. The real danger is from the undiscovered objects, the ones hiding in the sun’s glare or beyond our detection systems.

Cosmic Wildcards

Beyond asteroids, the universe harbors other forces that could reshape life on Earth. Supernova explosions, while rare, could bathe the planet in lethal radiation if one occurred within a few dozen light-years. Gamma-ray bursts—highly energetic beams from collapsing stars—could strip away Earth’s protective ozone layer, leaving life vulnerable to solar radiation. Thankfully, the odds of such an event in the next century are low, but not zero.

Another possibility comes from interstellar visitors. In recent years, objects like ‘Oumuamua and comet Borisov have entered our solar system from deep space. These wanderers remind us that intergalactic debris is not just science fiction. A larger rogue body, poorly tracked, could one day cross paths with Earth.

Humanity’s Response

The silver lining is that for the first time in history, humanity has the tools to defend itself. Missions like NASA’s DART, which successfully nudged the asteroid Dimorphos in 2022, prove we can alter the path of small celestial bodies. Expanding planetary defense—through telescopes, impactors, or even nuclear deflection—will be critical if we hope to avoid catastrophe.

The Next 100 Years

So, will Earth face an extinction-level event in the next century? The odds are small, but the potential consequences are so severe that ignoring the risk would be reckless. A city-destroying impact is far more likely than a global cataclysm, but both remain on the table. Meanwhile, cosmic events like supernovae and gamma-ray bursts remain unlikely but possible.

In short, the universe is not a gentle backdrop to human history—it is a restless, violent, and indifferent force. The next hundred years may pass uneventfully, or they may deliver a reminder that our survival depends on vigilance, preparation, and humility before the cosmos.

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Of course, the GOP has decided that Charlie Kirk is now America’s newest saint—Saint Charlie of the Sacred AR-15. Never mind that this was a man who openly cheered the idea of “bodies in the streets” as the acceptable cost of freedom. He dies, and suddenly Republicans act like he was Mother Teresa, only with more ammunition. The flags come down, the tears roll, and the sermons begin: he died for your right to carry an AR-15 into Applebee’s.

Meanwhile, two young Black men are lynched. Actual lynchings. You’d think that would be a five-alarm fire in a country that supposedly fought a civil war and a civil rights movement to eradicate that particular brand of horror. But no, those murders don’t come with flag-lowering ceremonies or crocodile tears from GOP leaders. They don’t even warrant a press release. After all, they can’t be molded into a Fox News chyron that screams “liberal attack on freedom.”

And then there are the homeless encampments in Minnesota—shot up, because in America, even sleeping without a home is apparently a capital offense. You’d think the “party of Jesus” would weep for the poor, but no. Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek,” and Republicans heard, “Blessed are the AR-15 owners.” The unhoused are expendable, invisible, disposable—except when their existence is weaponized to complain about “Democrat-run cities.”

These shootings, whether connected or not or after a Fox News host talked about euthanizing homeless people basically putting them on the scale of stray animals.

But oh, Charlie Kirk? Now that is someone worth sanctifying. Forget that he mocked gun victims. Forget that he built a career on sneering at the powerless. Forget that he is—was—the poster child for cruelty as a political strategy. None of that matters, because he fits the one qualification that guarantees sainthood in the modern GOP: he was white, loud, and armed.

Here’s the dirty little secret: it’s not about free speech, it’s not about faith, and it’s sure as hell not about life. It’s about guns. Guns are the altar. Guns are the scripture. Guns are the god. When guns kill people the GOP doesn’t care about, it’s the cost of freedom. When guns kill one of their chosen icons, it’s a holy war.

So let’s call this what it is: the Republican Party doesn’t value life, it values mythology. And right now, Charlie Kirk is the golden calf they’re dancing around, while the real victims—the lynched, the poor, the forgotten—are tossed aside like trash.

America doesn’t need any more martyrs to the gun. What it needs is the courage to stop worshiping at its altar. But judging from the GOP’s response, we’ll keep burning lives for their god of violence while they sing hymns about “freedom.”

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

I have been collecting political cartoons referencing RFK Jr and they say more than I could in multiple post. I would have supported RFK Jr as Sec of EPA because of his legal background in environmental justice and protection but as Health and Human Services he is a nightmare, his questionable personal choices and absolutist vaccine denial stance is going to do as much for population reduction as Trumps disastrous position on COVID19.

Political cartoons say a lot…

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

If George Carlin were alive today, the poor bastard wouldn’t be on HBO—he’d be on some FBI watch list. Forget late-night specials; he’d be lucky to make it to the grocery store without a caravan of MAGA hats following him around screaming “FAKE NEWS” and “ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE.” Because let’s be honest: Carlin’s act wasn’t about safe little jokes you could tell at the dinner table. He dismantled power structures, shredded religion, laughed in the face of nationalism, and pointed out the hypocrisy of politicians. And the Trump-era GOP? They don’t want comedy—they want worship services. Preferably with laughter tracks provided by Fox News.

These folks love to brag about their devotion to “free speech.” Oh yes, they’ll fight to the death for your right to say anything you want—as long as it’s “Build the Wall!” or “Lock Her Up!” The minute you point out their contradictions, though, suddenly free speech has “gone too far” and must be canceled to preserve the Republic. Carlin, with his whole routine about the Ten Commandments being a glorified to-do list, would have Mike Johnson calling for his execution by sundown.

Imagine Carlin doing a set today: “So the guy who cheated on all three of his wives, paid off porn stars, and stole nuclear secrets from the government is your moral compass? Congratulations, America—you’ve officially turned your presidency into an episode of Jerry Springer.” You think that would fly on Fox News? No, they’d run a chyron that says GEORGE CARLIN HATES JESUS AND AMERICA and call for his deportation. Deportation to where, you ask? Doesn’t matter. They’ll find a place.

And let’s not kid ourselves—this is a movement that thinks violence is just another campaign strategy. Do we really believe Carlin could shred Trump and walk away unscathed? They’d either assassinate him or, at the very least, “accidentally” forget to provide him Secret Service protection while a militia rally just happened to be taking place outside. After all, in a country where politicians can’t even survive a routine campaign stop without gunfire, what chance does a foul-mouthed comedian have when he’s actively mocking the golden calf of MAGA?

Because here’s the truth: the modern GOP doesn’t want comedy. They want propaganda with a punchline. They love “jokes” when it’s just cruelty disguised as humor: mocking immigrants, mocking women, mocking LGBTQ people, mocking anyone who doesn’t genuflect before Trump. That’s not comedy—that’s bullying. Real comedy, the kind Carlin thrived on, points the finger at the powerful. And pointing the finger at the powerful is exactly what gets you erased in authoritarian climates.

So no, George Carlin wouldn’t “survive” in today’s America—not as a public figure anyway. He’d be canceled, harassed, maybe worse. Which is ironic, isn’t it? The very people who cry about “cancel culture” are the ones who would happily cancel comedy itself. Unless, of course, the joke is on someone else. Then it’s hilarious.

But that’s the new American model: free speech for me, silence for thee. And in a world where truth is the first casualty, Carlin’s kind of comedy is the second.

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Oh, gather round children, because it’s time for America’s newest bedtime story: How Freedom of Speech Was Gently Smothered in Its Sleep by the Hug of Authoritarianism. Don’t worry, it’s not scary—well, unless you find the idea of billionaires and thin-skinned politicians controlling your television scary. Spoiler: you should.

Once upon a time, there was a late-night host named Stephen Colbert. He told jokes, sometimes at the expense of the very fragile ego of Dear Leader Donald. But then—oh no!—a corporate merger was in progress, and the deal couldn’t risk upsetting the man whose official title is Most Easily Offended Adult Baby in American History. So, Colbert was “canceled.” Not because his ratings were bad, or because audiences didn’t love him, but because some executive thought, Well, it’d be a shame if this merger got blocked just because our guy made a joke about Donald’s spray tan.

And you know what? That was just fine. Because in America 2.0, we’ve moved beyond silly ideas like “comedy” and “criticism.” Now, comedians exist to flatter politicians, just like in every thriving democracy—oh wait, that’s not democracy, that’s, what’s the word… authoritarianism.

But the story doesn’t end there. Along comes Jimmy Kimmel, another troublemaker. He opened his mouth and said mean, but unfortunately accurate, things about the new patron saint of conservatism: Charlie Kirk. Remember him? The guy who once declared that empathy is weakness but now enjoys being eulogized like a cross between George Washington and a Hallmark card? Yes, him. Kimmel dared to speak the truth, and in today’s America, truth is more offensive than anything else. Boom—off the air he goes.

This is not censorship, though. No, no, no! Don’t call it that. It’s just… corporate synergy. It’s just “protecting shareholders.” It’s just “respecting the feelings of Dear Donald.” After all, when your feelings are as fragile as a Fabergé egg, you need the full weight of corporate America to make sure nobody ever points out you once bankrupted a casino.

The cautionary tale here, kids, is that freedom of speech is alive and well—as long as you only use it to praise the right people. Want to make fun of Democrats? Go ahead! Want to roast the poor, the marginalized, or anybody without a Super PAC? Be my guest! But if you so much as raise an eyebrow at Donald or his newest martyr, suddenly you’re off television faster than Rudy Giuliani can say “Four Seasons Total Landscaping.”

What’s next? Maybe late-night will be replaced by mandatory bedtime programming—The Trump Show: Starring Donald and His Bigly Hands. Every channel, every night, 8 p.m. sharp. Laughter optional, applause mandatory. Maybe comedians will only be allowed to joke about “safe topics” like weather, traffic, and the greatness of Donald’s golf game. And if you don’t laugh? Well, let’s just say you’ll get a knock at your door reminding you of how funny it was.

So yes, children, tonight’s story is about how authoritarianism doesn’t crash through the front door in jackboots. No, it sneaks in softly, through boardrooms and TV networks, disguised as “business decisions.” And before you know it, the only comedy left is watching America pretend it’s still the land of the free while your favorite late-night host is out of a job for telling the truth.

Now close your eyes, America. Dream sweet dreams. Don’t worry—Dear Donald and his corporate guardians of feelings will make sure you never wake up to reality.

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Ah yes, humanity: the one species that can take a perfectly good tragedy and turn it into a justification for becoming the villain in the sequel. If there’s one thing we’ve mastered, it’s recycling oppression like it’s a family heirloom—handed down lovingly from generation to generation, with a little extra cruelty polished onto it each time.

Let’s start with the Jews. Oppressed? Absolutely. Victims of one of the most grotesque acts in human history? Without question. But fast-forward a few decades, and suddenly Gaza is a concentration camp with Wi-Fi. Somehow, the people who once cried “Never Again” now apparently meant, “Never Again… for us. For you? Well, that’s negotiable.” Bombed schools, blockaded food, and the casual shrug at civilian casualties—it’s like trauma has been rebranded as state policy. Oppression wasn’t destroyed; it was franchised.

Then we have the Christians. Oh, the poor Christians, fed to lions, burned at the stake, hiding in catacombs. Fast forward two thousand years, and their spiritual descendants are sitting comfortably in megachurches that look like shopping malls, while insisting they’re still persecuted because Starbucks forgot to print “Merry Christmas” on a cup. The religion that started with a man preaching love, humility, and care for the poor now has a political wing dedicated to stripping healthcare, policing bedrooms, and hoarding guns. Apparently, nothing says “What would Jesus do?” quite like suppressing the rights of anyone who doesn’t fit into your WASPy suburban fantasy.

And of course, America itself: land of the free, home of the brave… unless you were here first. Then it’s land of the stolen, home of the displaced. Let’s not forget: the pilgrims came here whining about oppression, fleeing Europe to find freedom, and within about five minutes they were handing out blankets laced with smallpox. Oppression was their favorite import—well, that and Puritan judgment. The Indigenous people who lived here for thousands of years in relative balance with the land? Oppressed, slaughtered, and herded onto reservations like livestock. But hey, the settlers were oppressed too, remember? They couldn’t wear their funny hats in peace back in England, so clearly they were justified.

And don’t even get me started on whiteness in America. Somehow, the people who already have every conceivable advantage still manage to cry that they’re the “real victims.” Yes, because when you dominate government, media, and culture, the logical next step is to convince yourself you’re under attack by pronouns and diverse casting choices in Disney movies. Meanwhile, anyone who isn’t white or Christian is expected to “know their place.” Freedom, apparently, is a zero-sum game, and some folks are very worried that if others get even a drop of it, their own privilege might lose a little shine.

So here we are, in 2025, watching the same cycle play out like reruns of a bad sitcom. Yesterday’s victims become today’s tyrants. Yesterday’s cries for freedom become today’s laws of exclusion. Humanity, in all its wisdom, proves once again that power doesn’t actually liberate—it just gives us shinier tools to oppress someone else.

If history has a catchphrase, it’s this: Meet the new boss, same as the old boss—just with a different flavor of self-righteousness.

Squirrel Time

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Oh, what a time to be alive! If you were worried that America had forgotten how to “win,” fear not—the current administration has turned winning into a contact sport. The scoreboard is lighting up like a slot machine in Vegas, and baby, the jackpots just keep rolling in. Forget boring old things like stability, trust in government, or a functioning economy—those are relics of a less “winning” era. Today, we’re drowning in victories so enormous you can barely breathe between all the confetti cannons of chaos.

Let’s start with the unemployment rate—a true triumph. Nothing screams prosperity quite like more people out of work. It’s as if the administration decided that having a job is too mainstream, too predictable. So, naturally, they’ve spiced it up by making millions of Americans dust off their résumés and rediscover the joys of applying to Indeed listings for “assistant to the assistant manager.” Because what’s better than gainful employment? The thrill of uncertainty! Who needs a steady paycheck when you can have the adrenaline rush of wondering how you’ll pay rent each month? That’s called character-building, and this administration is delivering it in bulk.

Then there’s inflation—oh, the crown jewel of economic strategy. The dollar is stretching like a piece of old chewing gum, and every trip to the grocery store feels like playing “The Price is Right” on hard mode. Bacon? That’ll cost you a car payment. Eggs? Might as well mortgage your house. But don’t worry, it’s all part of the grand plan. Inflation is just the government’s way of encouraging Americans to embrace minimalism. Who really needs to eat three meals a day anyway? Winning!

Of course, we can’t forget the increase in political violence. If democracy is a family, then this administration is hosting the world’s loudest Thanksgiving dinner, complete with knives being thrown across the table. Polarization? Off the charts. Threats? A dime a dozen. Public officials can’t even sneeze without someone accusing them of treason. But hey, what’s a little civil unrest between friends? After all, nothing unites a country like being at each other’s throats. Think of it as a team-building exercise, except the “team” is America, and the exercise involves Molotov cocktails. Another W in the column!

And let’s not overlook the general uncertainty that’s become the air we breathe. No one knows what’s going to happen tomorrow—will it be a stock market crash? A foreign policy blunder? Another cabinet official indicted? Who knows! It’s like living in a reality TV show where the plot twists are written by a committee of caffeinated toddlers. Sure, uncertainty makes planning for the future impossible, but who wants predictability when you can live every day on the edge of your seat? That’s excitement, folks. That’s winning.

So let’s give credit where credit is due. This administration promised “so much winning you’ll get tired of winning.” Well, mission accomplished. The unemployment rate is up, inflation is up, violence is up, anxiety is up—everything is up except, of course, national morale. But hey, you can’t have it all.

Let’s not forget, dear Donald’s latest blunder claiming that 300 million Americans died from drug deaths in the last year; that’s amazing considering that our population is only 340 million.

America: the land of the free, the home of the brave, and now, the undisputed heavyweight champion of “winning.” Too bad the prize is a flaming dumpster.

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Since January 20, when our felon-in-chief dragged his baggage and ego into the White House, the nation has been living in a carnival of chaos. It is not just bad policy, not just laughable leadership—it’s a deliberate strategy. The appointments, the headlines, the scandals, the daily Twitter-esque explosions of nonsense—none of it is random. It’s a game of confusion, a game of control through chaos, a game designed to exhaust the public until we can’t tell up from down or right from wrong. And the longer this goes on, the more dangerous it becomes.

Look at the cabinet picks. It’s as if résumés no longer matter, experience is irrelevant, and conflict of interest is the only job qualification that counts. Want to regulate banks? Appoint someone whose career was built on exploiting loopholes. Want someone to oversee public education? Choose a person who doesn’t believe in public schools. Want environmental stewardship? Find a fossil fuel executive who treats climate science like a personal insult. It’s a circus, but not the fun kind with popcorn and clowns—it’s the kind where the animals are abused, the ringmaster is drunk, and the tent is on fire.

And yet, the media, the supposed guardians of democracy, stumble through the coverage as if this were just another administration making routine decisions. There is a bizarre obsession with “balance,” as if giving equal weight to competence and corruption somehow equals fairness. They will run story after story about the president’s “political instincts,” but barely mention the steady erosion of norms, rights, and institutions. When he lies, it’s framed as “misleading.” When he incites, it’s “spirited rhetoric.” When he tears at the foundations of democracy, the headline reads “unconventional leadership style.” The press, terrified of being labeled “biased,” has become complicit by refusing to name the damage in plain terms.

But this is the playbook: overwhelm the senses. If you flood the zone with scandal, with absurdity, with controversy after controversy, people become numb. They stop reacting, stop caring, stop keeping track. Chaos becomes normal. Yesterday’s outrage is buried under today’s firestorm, which is itself forgotten by tomorrow. It’s psychological warfare dressed up as governance. The more confused and divided the public, the easier it becomes to consolidate power.

This strategy thrives on division. Every policy, every statement, every move is designed to pit one group against another: urban versus rural, immigrant versus native-born, “real Americans” versus anyone who doesn’t fit the mold. It’s not about solving problems; it’s about creating enemies. The president doesn’t lead—he provokes. He doesn’t govern—he agitates. He knows that if people are busy screaming at each other, they won’t notice the quiet theft of rights, resources, and democratic safeguards happening in the background.

Authoritarian rule never arrives with a blaring trumpet. It creeps in while people are distracted. While we argue about one scandal, rules are rewritten in back rooms. While the headlines fixate on one outrageous quote, entire agencies are gutted. While people laugh at the latest absurd cabinet pick, the machinery of democracy is hollowed out. Control doesn’t always come through tanks in the streets; sometimes it comes through endless distraction, fatigue, and a carefully orchestrated sense of hopelessness.

And that’s where we are now. Tired. Confused. Overloaded. A country staggering under the weight of too many lies, too many scandals, too many crises piled one on top of another. People begin to tune out because constant outrage is unsustainable. That’s the danger. That’s when authoritarianism wins—not through strength, but through the people’s exhaustion.

January 20 was not just the start of a new administration. It was the start of an experiment in chaos as political strategy. We’ve been living it every day since: the unqualified appointments, the media’s timid framing, the daily whirlpool of division. And unless we recognize the strategy for what it is, unless we call it by its name—control through chaos—we will keep stumbling forward into a darker, more authoritarian future.