Sunrise.

The heron at dawn.

We see this heron every morning — lately — at a place I call the AVP (alternative vantage point). Now, we feel he knows us and waits for us. Before, he'd been standing rooted to one spot quite near the shore, undisturbed by our approach. There was an aura of mutual respect and trust. But this morning, as we walked up to where we would first see him, he flew up and crossed right in front of us. It was glorious! Then he landed right over there, where you see him in the photo, and he remained rooted there, posing for all our pictures.

Here's Meade's video:

Does Obama even know what cheesecake is?

I've listened to this 20 times:

I believe he's trying to talk like a standup comedian. I feel as though he's been coached on how to sound like a standup comedian who is also the Obama who once presided over what's now supposed to be remembered as a golden age.

That's not easy, but when he gets to his big punchline — "He's got the White House looking like Saddam Hussein opened a Cheesecake Factory" — it's like he doesn't even know what cheesecake is let alone have any familiarity with the restaurant chain a lot of Americans regard as a pretty nice place to go out to eat.

He went.

"We need to get a system that can get that right." Broadcaster Joe Davis reacts to the swing call that ended Game 2 of the World Series https://t.co/9IXmVGNPlC

— Talkin' Baseball (@TalkinBaseball_) October 25, 2026

The MLB rule book does not define a "swing" or "checked swing." It is 100% the umpire's judgment. But just about every accepted understanding makes that swing. The barrel of his bat was through the hitting zone -- past parallel to the front of the plate. Had the ball struck the bat it would have gone into fair territory. That's no different than a bunt attempt that isn't pulled back in time.

— Shipwreckedcrew (@shipwreckedcrew) October 25, 2026

"That [burned Limoges] City Hall is at the epicenter of generations of struggle. It's not connected to how I fancy croissants and brie..."

"... and red wine but all I can find now is kebab in a shop blaring rap.... We should be alert to how the history of struggle is obscured by the reactionary and racist commodification of nostalgia and tourism."

"Whereas clowns were naive idiots, bouffons savagely undermined the people in power."

"They were doing something important: using biting and at times cruel humor to undermine systemic injustice. It’s what satirists have done throughout history.... Ali G is a white imbecile—a delusional cultural appropriator—who steals the fashion and lyrics from his favorite gangsta rap and dancehall idols, from Compton to Kingston.... Like a good bouffon, he undermines that establishment—not the culture he loves and borrows from.... Each of my characters has a specific mechanism to encourage people to drop their guards and show what they really believe, prejudices and all. Borat, an antisemitic journalist, exposes Jew hatred, xeno­phobia, sexism, and casual racism. Erran Morad, a stereotype of a tough-guy Israeli commando—'I’ve been in 14 terror attacks,' he says in my new movie Ali G: Who Iz I?, 'and started two'—exposes Islamophobia.... Ali G works on another level. He’s not extreme—he’s just extremely dumb. But his absurd questions lead powerful people to underestimate him and answer in earnest, revealing their own biases...."

Writes Sacha Baron Cohen, in "Why Satire Is No Laughing Matter" (Time). 

According to Baron Cohen, the "bouffon" is a "tradition dated back to 11th century France, where societal outcasts—gay people, heretics, those with deformities—would be let back into their villages once a year to put on shows viciously mocking the ruling class."

I noticed that Time essay because of "What to Know About ‘Ali G: Who Iz I?’ Sacha Baron Cohen has revived his fictional wannabe rapper in a new movie that will be in theaters for just this weekend. Here’s what to know" (NYT).

Here's an excerpt from that (showing why Baron Cohen is highly motivated to justify his continuation of the Ali G character):

"A few years ago, I had the rather rudimentary realization that my aversion to being cold was causing me to shrink my life to fit within the walls of my apartment during winter."

"I’d decline invitations, measuring the worthiness of an activity by its proximity to a thermostat. When I realized being cold is not an emergency — it’s just discomfort, and discomfort can be tolerated — I got a better winter coat and stopped dreading February so much.

I'm reading "Outside Chance/We’ve plunged fully into fall, complete with cozy scarves and puffy vests. Why not venture into the woods?" — by Melissa Kirsch, who draws a distinction between being "outdoorsy" and "outsidey."

The movie I'd like to see is "My Dinner with Robert."

I'm picturing a "My Dinner with Andre" style conversation in a restaurant, and it's Billy Corgan and Robert Smith.

My dream is inspired by something Corgan said in the Popcast podcast at "Billy Corgan Unloads After a Lifetime of 'Mocking, Bullying, Laughing'" (NYT)(audio and transcript):

[W]e were told at some point in the early 2000s that those types of songs with those types of themes were no longer relevant, and off they went. That it was too complicated. The Cure had the same problem. I’ve been friends with Robert [Smith] for many years, and we would sit there somewhere in the early 2000s over a Chinese meal and lament, like, what the hell happened? This emotionally resonant music just seems like it’s been shoved aside by sociopathic influencers with kind of one-note music.... When they sold out alternative ethos for pop domination — in essence, celebrating Rihanna as an alternative star and wiping Siouxsie [Sioux] off the map — that to me was the great betrayal of the alternative ethos. So suddenly all the things that make alternative music so beautiful — the messiness, the dissonance, the out-of-tune guitars — it was like, nah, that’s just too messy. We don’t have time for that anymore. I started literally comparing the guitar in interviews to the saxophone....

There they are, Corgan and Smith in a Chinese restaurant, puzzling out what the hell happened. It's the Wally/Andre situation. There was an art form. It was vital and they were in the center of it, and where are they now? What happened? 

Sunrise, Part 2.

Sunrise, Part 1.

"Testosterone levels have dropped worldwide by as much as fifty per cent since the nineteen-seventies..."

"... a decrease associated with the rising prevalence of obesity, because excess fat tissue decreases the production of testosterone and its binding proteins.... The Trump Administration draws a sharp distinction in legitimacy between the use of hormone therapy in the case of transgender-affirming care versus in cisgender-affirming care.... 'The trans population I take care of—a fair number of them aren’t looking to become something different than the gender they feel they are,' [endocrinologist Brad] Anawalt told me. 'They’re not looking to become supermen or superwomen.' This was a provocative suggestion: that transgender care, by offering harmony between a body and an identity, is, in a sense, naturalizing, whereas TRT used to compensate for insecurity and enhance masculinity might be the more unnatural intervention...."

From "Is the Military Low-T? New data suggest that a quarter of American servicemen may have low testosterone. That doesn’t mean what Pete Hegseth thinks it does" (The New Yorker).

A gentle non-dispute about the whereabouts of toys.

As “Winnie-the-Pooh” turns 100, Britain is renewing calls for the original stuffed bear and his friends to return from the New York Public Library. The library has resisted requests, citing the toys’ age and popularity. Oh, bother! https://t.co/hMAhdlFRpO https://t.co/wTquTiQL7q

— The Washington Post (@washingtonpost) October 15, 2026

Response from the British Embassy in Washington:

The Kiffness succinctly sums up American politics.

The last time we noticed The Kiffness, he was riffing on Trump's "They're eating the dogs." He's South African and said he's non-partisan. He's got a special rapport with cats.

Sunrise.

Just the 2 of us.

"Interacting with the horses 'helps us attune to energy, ours and theirs, and seems to create a sense of safety — not just in the head, but centered, felt, and grounded in the body....'"

I'm reading "6 Horse-Centered Retreats That Go Beyond Trail RidesI/n new programs, interactions with horses go beyond riding to meditation, yoga and therapy that practitioners say can help restore life balance" (NYT).

Top-rated comment over there: "You can go to all these wildly expensive resorts and the actual horse encounters are extra? Go to a stable somewhere and volunteer to muck out stalls."

Yeah, take a workation. Oh, no, I can't use "workation" to mean a vacation that consists of doing some romantic form of work like operating a horse-drawn plow or candlemaking or pottery. That particular portmanteau is already being used to mean continuing to do your regular work remotely, in some nice vacation spot.

Meanwhile, there are these elaborate fantasy vacations. Go to the link and see photographs of people lying down while a horse more or less kisses them. I can't imagine going all the way to, say, Indonesia, to submit to the ministrations of a horse. It's presented as therapeutic, but there you'd be, expecting luxury and spirituality, surrounded by other people with the same expectations and dependent on a business that strives to give you what you paid for.