5 October—Absentee ballots are available now for state elections. They’re less than a month away and are guaranteed not to bring any meaningful change to Connecticut, thanks entirely to the Republican candidates for all the six statewide executive—so-called constitutional—offices and legislative—house and senate—offices that are up for grabs.

And that’s a crying shame, because the securely entrenched Connecticut Democrat executive-legislative trifecta has been able to get its irresponsibly wasteful, blatantly vote-buying way far too long.

So what are Connecticut Republicans doing to win back at least a modicum of control and respect? Start with the GOP candidates for the six statewide offices. Everybody knows the candidate for governor, charismatic, dynamic, innovative young State Senator Ryan Fazio from Greenwich. Well, over half the voters haven’t the foggiest idea who Ryan Fazio is. Nor do they care.

And just kidding about the adjectives describing Fazio. But he is relatively young at 36, having made it into the State Senate in a special election at 31. For comparison, John Rowland wasn’t elected governor until he was 37, on his second try—after having been elected to the Connecticut General Assembly at 23 and U.S. Congress at 27. Say what you will about Rowland, in addition to being somewhat of a political phenomenon, he was charismatic, dynamic, and innovative. Pity he also turned out to be corrupt. And stupid. (But he’s since been fully pardoned for his sins by the four-letter word with a five-letter name.

Back to Ryan Fazio, then, the twerpish state senator and his inept campaign advisers have run an entirely predictable, typically Republican by-the-book lackluster campaign, attacking incumbent Democrat Governor Ned Lamont who has notoriously and unashamedly bought his electoral success by pandering to state employee unions and similar special interests. And of course, Fazio can’t help making typical candidate promises everybody knows he won’t be able to keep—even on the inconceivable chance he should manage to get elected.

Then there’s the Connecticut Republican statewide underticket: lieutenant governor, attorney general, secretary of the state, state comptroller, and state treasurer. Truth be told, nobody gives a damn about the constitutional offices but the candidates, the Democrats running for those jobs are all incumbents, and nobody knows or cares who the Republican wannabes are.

As for underticket state representatives and senators, we shouldn’t be at all surprised to see even some traditionally safe Republican seats fall to Democrats. Because not only are the Republican incumbents and wannabes as lackluster and unimpressive as Ryan Fazio, they all lack the principle, scrotal content, resolve, and self-respect to even repudiate Donald Trump, let alone trash him as he deserves.

And Connecticut’s five Republican congressional guaranteed losers aren’t even worth thinking about. Because, of course, they too lack the principle, scrotal content, resolve, and self-respect to even repudiate Donald Trump, let alone trash him as he deserves. And at least one, Chris Shea, deserving and destined to lose to Jahana Hayes in the Fifth, has proudly affiliated himself with Trump—who, however, hasn’t endorsed him or any other Connecticut congressional candidate . . .

4 October—In its never-ending, ever-escalating intensively malignant crusade to inconvenience and otherwise screw its remaining underserved, overcharged, decidedly unhappy customers who can’t do anything about it, the United States Postal Service came up with a new expedient it arrogantly touts as Regional Transportation Optimization.

It’s no accident that RTO started doing its damage on April Fools Day last year.

Simply put, under USPS RTO, mail—all mail, including 35-dollar-plus-premium Express Mail that used to guarantee next-day delivery for a hell of a lot less—is no longer collected at the end of the business day at post offices more than 50 miles from one of the rogue USPS’s 56 Regional Processing and Distribution Centers. Rather, it’s all bagged and held until the following morning, when it’s collected at the same time the day’s invariably belated incoming mail is dropped off for usually dilatory delivery. Unless, of course, you pay the USPS’s extortion it calls PO box rent for the privilege of delivering your own mail.

To be sure, combining delivery and collection into a single trip obviously cuts costs for the notoriously mismanaged USPS, whose politically appointed mismanagers have notoriously never given a damn about customers because they haven’t had to. Who cares, the misfits reckon, if the schmucks are further inconvenienced by another day’s delay in their mail getting delivered? Who’s gonna notice another day’s delay? If it gets delivered, that is.

The latest update available from the Postal Regulatory Commission—obviously another sick joke—indicates that an unspecified number of post offices in some 17,700 ZIP Codes (of about 28,500 ZIP Codes) have sacrificed evening collection on the altar of Regional Transportation Optimization.

And the number of sacrifices keeps growing. When the USPS buggers have fully wreaked their latest havoc, they’re looking forward to about 23,000 post offices out of some 31,000 losing evening pickups, leaving only about a quarter with anything even approaching halfway decent service.

Then, of course, the USPS buggers will be closing more post offices. Count on it. Even now, as Northfield and Morris captive postal customers well know, while it’s not uncommon for one ZIP Code to contain more than one post office, it’s becoming more common for one post office to contain more than one ZIP Code.

For the record, the USPS Connecticut primary processing center in Wallingford is notably and noticeably less than 50 miles as the crow flies—and even as the truck drives—from Litchfield and other ZIP Codes and post offices that no longer are treated to late pickups. It’s the same story all over the country.

So you won’t be surprised that the USPS has come up with all sorts of bullshit formulas to rationalize its evil anti-consumer ways. We won’t burden you with them. But it’s essentially no different from Supreme Court justices coming up with all sorts of bullshit reasons for their asinine decisions. Because, like it or not, they can do it . . .

3 October—Déjà vu all over again. That’s the first, natural, and obvious thing that came to an open mind when the story about the alleged 2024 Cornell gang rape hit the headlines this week.

Remember the widely and rather sensationally reported 2006 Duke gang rape? Of course not. So to refresh your memory, in that rush to judgement three Duke men, members of the university’s lacrosse team, were accused by Crystal Mangum of raping her. Crystal at the time was a student at North Carolina Central University and made extra bucks as a stripper. And she was doing her ecdysis for the guys on the night she accused them of having their dastardly way.

To cut right to the chase, then, after all the hullabaloo about sexual violence and due process on campus, among other things, it turned out that Crystal hadn’t been raped at all. She was just plain lying. But it took over a year for the Duke lacrosse trio to be officially exonerated in what came to be known as the Duke rape hoax.

It also came out that the Durham cops were at fault, including but not limited to a supervisor who had a history of picking on Duke students and offed himself several years later. And the Durham County DA resigned in disgrace before being disbarred and jailed (but only for a day) for his gross prosecutorial misconduct and criminal contempt that was politically motivated (as often is the case with prosecutorial misconduct and criminal contempt).

There were big money settlements, of course, mostly from Duke, and other succulent details you needn’t be burdened with. And the three innocent lacrosse players went on to other universities and good careers.

As for Crystal Mangum, although she had an impressive rap sheet of rape hoaxes and other crimes since her adolescence, as well as substance abuse, she wasn’t criminally charged for instigating the Duke miscarriage of justice. She didn’t even admit her guilt until 2024: “I testified falsely against them by saying that they raped me when they didn’t, and that was wrong, and I betrayed the trust of a lot of other people who believed in me. I made up a story that wasn’t true because I wanted validation from people and not from God.”

Sure. That admission was in an on-camera interview from Neuse Correctional Institution, where Crystal was nearing the end of a sentence for second-degree murder she’d committed in 2011 and was convicted of two years later. She was sprung in February of this year.

The Tawana Brawley rape hoax, on the other hand, had nothing to do with university students.

So, as non-Cornell students sing Cornell’s alma mater, “High above Cayuga’s ditches . . .”

2 October—Presented without comment: mandatory statements of ownership, management, and circulation of the Hearst RepublicanAmerican from 30 September 2025 and 30 September 2026. To save you the trouble of perusing the notices, the relevant numbers are down about 2,500 in net press run, paid circulation, paid distribution, and paid print + paid electronic copies. And that’s not comment.

In other non-news, on Thursday, fugitive criminal Kosta Diamantis was sentenced in absentia by Federal District Judge Stefan Underhill to only seven years up the river. Lucky Kosta. Stefan cited Kosta’s age in the shorter-than-recommended sentence. Both Stefan and Kosta are 70.

Kosta is an innocent victim of Ned Lamont, Joe Biden, and a weaponized—obviously pre-Trump—Department of Justice. That’s what he says, anyway, and we know he’s as honest as the day is long. In Barrow, Alaska, in the dead of winter.

Along with everyone he blames and names for misconstruing his criminal acts as crimes, Kosta is implicitly blaming his lawyer for allowing him to be convicted on all 21 counts. Say what you will about Norm Pattis, though, as a criminal defense lawyer he’ll do all he can to represent a client even if he knows the bugger is guilty. Like Alex Jones and Kosta Diamantis.

And Kosta is also trying to snow the public with a sob story about his present plight, which is no fault of his own, of course. The poor schmuck says he’d like to come back to his family in Connecticut. The fed even offered to pay his fare. But of course, besides being broke he doesn’t even have a home to go to since his half-million-dollar house in Farmington has been seized to pay the half-million-dollar bail he skipped.

Has anyone started a GoFundMe fiddle for Kosta?

1 October—So the incompetent executioners in Tennessee, who may well have been three sheets to the wind on sour mash, failed to execute Christa Pike last night after two tries. Earlier this year they’d failed to execute Tony Carruthers. Pike has been hospitalized, presumably pending a third pitch, and Carruthers is still languishing on death row. Putting everything else aside, consider that Christa Pike had been tried and convicted in 1996 for a murder she’d committed in 1995 and Tony Carruthers also had been convicted in 1996 for a murder he’d committed in 1994.

To be sure, we all know we’re going to die sooner or later. But 30 years—three decades—on death row? Forget about the cruel and unusual punishment aspect. Pike and Carruthers are convicted murders, after all, and presumably inflicted the cruelest ultimate punishment on their victims and may not deserve any sympathy. But justice delayed is justice denied.

Justice denied naturally takes us to Donald Trump, who has caused justice to be denied to countless individuals and diverse entities since even before he proved the democratic process could really screw up as well as be perverted. The top picture below in which Ayatollah Trump appears to have a splayed foot has caused some speculation that among his physical infirmities is one that causes him to wear a leg brace. Let’s assume it hasn’t been photoshopped. So big deal. Anybody can stand like that. And Franklin Roosevelt wore leg braces he didn’t want the public to know about. Then again, FDR was a good president and not a self-dealing crook and tyrant. And for bespoke trousers, Trump’s pants legs are too long.

Trump also is said to use heel lifts. Allegedly it’s his foot sticking out of a shoe in the bottom picture. In the great scheme of things, who gives a damn? We know Trump is a psychotically vain bully and bullies often depend upon their sheer size to intimidate, so Trump’s heel lifts certainly aren’t out of the question. Given his advanced years,Trump will have lost a couple of inches in height from his max, of course. He doesn’t appear to be wearing a leg brace in the picture, but his left foot appears to be splayed.

We also know that Trump suffers from swelling in his lower legs, although it’s not evident in the bottom picture, caused, his flunky quacks admit, by chronic venous insufficiency, which they insist is not deep vein thrombosis. In all events, Trump can thank his gluttonous obesity for his circulatory problems. And whatever they may be, they’re likely more serious than his flunkies are willing to admit—to the public and/or to their lord and master.

More to the point—and a really big deal—is that chronic venous insufficiency frequently contributes to mood changes, fatigue, and brain fog. Enough said?

30 September—You’re getting this daily link on 29 September because the Monitor’s editorial and production staff will be vacationing overnight in beautiful Bridgeport on 30 September following a transcatheter aortic valve replacement on 29 September.

Very briefly, then, let’s marvel at Donald Trump’s artful deals with Xi Jinping. The big deal, of course, is what’s being called China’s generous loan of two giant pandas to the United States. In reality, though it’s not a loan at all, but a lease.

The boilerplate panda diplomacy lease has a ten-year term at a cool million dollars per year for a breeding pair of giant pandas. And if the pandas should produce little ones, China must be paid $400,000 for each cub born. And any giant pandas born here, despite birthright citizenship, legally belong to China and must be deported there by the time they turn four.

So enjoy this chamber version of George Enescu’s Romanian Rhapsody No. 1. And we hope to deliver a fresh disquisition on 1 October:

29 September—Today is the 336^th anniversary of an event that would give Donald Trump a boner if he . . . knew about it. Of course.

First, however, the very first issue of the very first multi-page newspaper—as opposed to single-sheet broadside—published in North America in any language (as far as is known) was Publick Occurrences Both Forreign and Domestick, which hit the stands in Boston on 25 September 1690. It was in fact a broadside with a single fold, making it a four-page folio with letter-size pages. The back page was blank, having been reserved for advertisers who, however, didn’t step up to the risk. (The Monitor, on the other hand, has never solicited advertising. Because we could never get it.)

The only known copy of Publick Occurrences is preserved in what used to be known as the London Public Record Office, by the way, and is now the National Archives of the United Kingdom. To be clear, that’s the only known extant copy of the only issue of Publick Occurrences ever published.

And that takes us to Ayatollah Trump’s if-he-knew Viagra. Because the first and only issue ofthe intended monthlyPublick Occurrences in addition to not having a government-issued license and printing some truly fake but juicy news (e.g., French King Louis XIV sleeping with his son’s wife, who just happened to be dead at the time—likely published because the editor-publisher, Benjamin Harris, was notoriously anti-Catholic), also published real news about the Brits’ brutal treatment of French POWs that offended the British colonial governor.

So naturally the newspaper was closed down—effectively by executive order—a few days later, on 29 September, and all remaining copies were confiscated and destroyed. Wouldn’t Trump love to do that?!

There are several extant copies of the broadside suppression order, including the one pictured that’s in the American Antiquarian Society in Worcester, Mass. It’s easy to read, so you don’t need a transcript. Note the reference to “sundry doubtful and uncertain reports,” a.k.a. fake news:

There was never a paucity of ad hoc single-issue and short-run broadsides in the colonies, mind you, but it was almost 14 years—1704—before another newspaper was regularly published. That was The Boston News-Letter, published by Boston postmaster John Campbell that dutifully served as a mouthpiece for the crown, which even subsidized its publication at times. The Boston-basd Tory-Loyalist rag, which quite possibly could have survived a bit longer had it moved to in New York, folded in February 1776 . . .

28 September—Three pictures worth many words:

27 September—This just received. Posted with minor emendation:

LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE

As with renewing the idea of having local constables [rather than more resident troopers], we now go forward in the same path for full time paid medical services. Trying to improve or alter it further can often make matters worse than not waiting and saying I should have left well enough alone.

There have been recent comments to support a plan for EMS [emergency medical service] coverage with dedicated [full-time paid professional] positions and expansion of services. Bringing technicians and administrators on as town employees with municipal benefits adds to the start up costs. A resident said, having a EMS with this structure would far outweigh the initial and ongoing taxpayer expense.

Maybe, but why change a system that is already working fine and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it? At the present time, a committee has been formed to look at the options. This committee is headed by John Pudlinski and if anyone knows what is good for the town, this is the right person to head it.

I will personally vote for any proposal John feels is right for the town. Congratulations to John for his all out effort in the opening of LVA’s [Litchfield Volunteer Ambulance’s] new headquarters, which is totally deserved for all who work from there, after having to endure their past conditions.

I have had three experiences with the LVA for emergency calls and found dedicated EMTs [emergency medical technicians] capable of delivering consistent and high-quality services when they are needed. The town is very fortunate to have these administrators and EMTs to overlook this service.

I understand the turnover rate and shortage of volunteers. If there is a way to keep the present arrangement, I’m feeling optimistic this committee will investigate and try every possible option and path to solve this problem.

They are located right in town, provide emergency response services and finally enjoying the new headquarters they much deserve from the 100 year old building they were in. Interested recruits will now have this new headquarters which will be more inviting than the previous headquarters.

Maybe the following headline is in Litchfield’s future with a dedicated EMT workforce: Hopefully it won’t be:

“AMBULANCE UNION THREATENS STRIKE IN DISPUTE”

Richard Morin, Litchfield

[The writer needn’t worry, because the LVA, however it may evolve, will continue to work out of the new in-town garage; and municipal (as well as state and hospital) employees are expressly prohibited from striking under discrete Connecticut General Statutes.—Ed.]

26 September—This morning’s Hearst RepublicanAmerican has a story on the local news page headlined “Former student admits egging teacher’s Southbury home after repeated vandalism.” The story mentions that “the warrant also noted five individuals had previously been caught for throwing eggs at the home.” Evidently the vandalism had been going on since 2024 because the perps didn’t like the Pomperaug High School teacher they victimized.

Not mentioned in any coverage of the vandalism is that one vandal—also a recent Pomperaug graduate—had been able to avoid arrest by getting himself killed (and nearly decapitated) when his motor scooter collided with a pickup truck in Middlebury just after midnight on 11 July, several hours after he had bought some unspecified alcohol—probably beer—at a local booze emporium by flashing a phony ID.

Sources are mum on the alcohol content of the personable and popular 18-year-old decedent’s blood and urine or whether they were even tested. Nor can we confirm that his backpack contained a quantity of vapes—electronic cigarettes, verboten to under-21-year-olds—or where he may have obtained them.

There’s always lots of graduation and school-vacation partying in early summer. Especially by teachers. And raising the legal drinking/smoking age to 21, like all too many laws here, there, and everywhere, was absolutely ridiculous, counterproductive, and largely unenforceable. Still, it’s the law and it’s enforced in Connecticut. And that’s worth noting because, while it may not be relevant in the late Pomperaug grad’s death, a retired cop is known to have stood by while booze was consumed by partying minors in his home. And no one did a thing about it.

It’s interesting—and in the circumstance ironic and sad—to note, moreover, that some photos of the decedent displayed at his wake showed him holding alcoholic beverages . . .

25 September—Despite a court order by a federal judge Donald Trump himself had appointed during his first reign of terror (which, it’s turned out, was only practice for the second), reporters from CNN and MS NOW weren’t allowed to observe Trump’s White House dinner for one of his two BSFs (best scumbag friends) and fellow dictators, Red China strongman Xi Jinping. You know who Trump’s other BSF is and that Trump envies them both and kisses all four of their iniquitous posterior cheeks whenever he feels the urge.

The dinner to welcome Xi was in the White House’s East Room rather than the State Dining Room because the East Room is twice the State Dining Room’s size and Trump had invited scores of hypocritical, self-interested ass-kissing oligarchs like Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Mark Zuckerberg to impress Xi.

The Monitor’s Washington correspondent wasn’t banned from the dinner but had more important things to do last night as well as no credentials. But she was able to slip unnoticed into the East Room before the dinner. Don’t ask how. Although sorely tempted to take souvenirs of the vermeil flatware and bone china, she was able to control her kleptomanic impulses, unlike the dinner host and most of his guests, who, however, have more lucrative aspirations.

So our DC correspondent didn’t even take a menu for the meal Trump took pains planning in order to make his Chinese BSF feel right at home. But she did photograph one for the edification of Monitor readers: