Marking the 250th; mainstream Democrats' nerves; and my reading challenge is done.

Lester120 | Deposit Photos

It's the day after the 4th of July, and even though most of the big stuff is over, the weekend lingers on. So happy Independence Day, y'all, and happy 250th to the USA. 

A lot of Americans don't feel like there's much to celebrate on this anniversary of our nation's birth, especially given the shitshow that Trump has made of the nationwide celebration. I remember the bicentennial in 1976; Watergate was not long behind us (Nixon resigned in '74), and it seemed like our political system was healthy and had stood up to the rule of law. It felt like we could go on, like we could continue striving for that more perfect union the Founding Fathers talked about.

Today, not so much.

But: I'm not a huge follower of astrology, but I've happened upon several astrological forecasts of late that indicate we are heading for some kind of upheaval, likely this month. But I have a sense that there's already an upheaval ongoing, and it has to do with the success of democratic socialist candidates during this primary season.

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I can tell you this much: the moderate Democrats who have kept a lock on their party for years (into their dotage, in many cases) are freaking out. A few days ago, Jonathan Chait at The Atlantic wrote a piece about how "Marxist-Leninist organizers" have been infiltrating the Democratic Socialists of America since Bernie Sanders' 2016 presidential candidacy and are poised to take over the organization. He says the DSA has begun supporting "militant anti-Zionism" and is otherwise aligning itself with communist organizations. And he compares the use of "Democratic" in DSA to authoritarian regimes around the world that use the same word. Pretty scary stuff. (The Atlantic has a stiff paywall -- a subscription is $89 a year, which is why I dropped mine several years ago. I'm accessing the article via Apple News.)

The Atlantic, despite its reputation as liberal-leaning, went with this piece at the same time that conservative columnists at the Washington Post and headline writers at the Wall Street Journal are either dropping "democratic" from references to democratic socialist candidates altogether or being wibbly-wobbly about it: sometimes they refer to them as "democratic socialists" and sometimes as just "socialists", as if the two terms are synonymous. Which they're not.

(Chait, by the way, is reportedly a progressive, but he's also Jewish, which might explain why he's sensitive about the whole Zionism thing.)

The founding editor of the DSA's Jacobin magazine, Bhaskar Sunkara, published a response to Chait's piece, which you can read here. (There's no paywall, but you'll have to give up your email address to read it.) The gist of it is that Chait is misreading the DSA's history, that it's a big tent that allows people who hold a lot of leftist viewpoints to join, and that there's a through-line from the DSA's founding to its stances today that Chait is misreading.

We're also in an atmosphere where Trump, at Mount Rushmore Friday, conflated democratic socialism with communism and claimed America is under attack: "You can be loyal to Karl Marx or you can be loyal to America. You can be a communist or you can be a patriot. You cannot be both."

I mean, one expects that out of Trump, who lies all the time. And conservatives have equated socialism with communism in their diatribes for generations; it's a short step for them to rope in democratic socialism and equate that with communism, too. But that Democrats are working so blatantly to discredit the DSA is new.

Here's my view: The Democrats in positions of power really like it there, and they will do anything to stay. They have been biding their time since Trump 2.0 began, telling us they have no power in Congress right now so they can't do anything to rein him in, thereby hoping to encourage a groundswell of blue votes that would win them control of at least one house of Congress, and ideally both, this year. 

The groundswell has built, all right, but it's not the one they wanted. People on the left are sick of Trump's self-dealing and other shenanigans, and they're sick of Democrats' mealy-mouthed responses to it all. They want fresh faces with fresh ideas. So they're voting for younger candidates who espouse democratic socialist views, even as those candidates run as Democrats.

It's not happening everywhere; some democratic socialist candidates are losing their primaries. But it's clear that the successes they've had are scaring the pants off the Democratic leadership. And New York City mayor Zohran Mamdani's successes for the little guy are only making it worse. His speech on the eve of Independence Day has received a fair bit of news coverage.

Some commentators see democratic socialism as the left's equivalent of MAGA. It's true that MAGA started as a collection of disgruntled far-right voters who, juiced by Fox News, coalesced around Trump's candidacy. Democratic socialism is attracting disgruntled far-left voters, and in that sense, I guess, they're similar.

Could democratic socialists take over the Democratic Party the way MAGA has taken over the GOP? It won't happen this year. But by 2028? If they find a candidate with something near to Trump's charisma, I think it could happen. I'm not seeing anyone who's that much of a rising star yet; Mamdani is a naturalized citizen, so he can't be president. But a lot can happen in two years.

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Oh! I nearly forgot. I finished reading Underground Airlines. I pretty much gave the background for the story last week, so I'll just say a couple of things. First, it turns out that I could have used it as my book set in Indiana; a bunch of the action happens in Indianapolis. Second, it's a terrific read. Third, I get why it attracted the criticism that it did: here's a white author writing about the Black experience. But I think it was pretty sensitively handled, and anyway, c'mon, it's alternate history. The Black experience in the world of the novel can be different than what's happening in the real world today. That's the beauty of speculative fiction: imagining how things might be different.

I haven't sent in my results yet, but it's on my to-do list. Maybe I'll get a sticker or something. I'll let you know.

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These moments of bloggy prognostication have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Happy barbecue leftovers!

Summer reading progress and a new crafty project.

I said I would post about my IU Summer Reading Challenge progress last Sunday, but I lied. I went out of town last weekend, and the preceding week got away from me. So that's what's on tap for this post. 

By skipping last week, I also missed out on mentioning that here in the northern hemisphere, the summer solstice was last Sunday. So blessed Litha and happy solstice to everyone! 

Yurumi | Deposit Photos

From here on out, the days will get warmer, but the amount of daylight will be decreasing a little bit each day. (The news is better for folks down under, of course; last Sunday was their shortest day of the year.)

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Reading Challenge news: In our last episode, I reported on the first two books I had finished. Since then, I have read three more:

• For a book set in Indiana, I picked Annie's Quilt, the first book in the Amish Quilts of Indiana series, by Sarah Price. It's a romance, which is fairly far out of my typical wheelhouse, but I liked it. Annie is a young Amish woman who lives in Shipshewana, IN, in the northeastern part of the state near the Michigan border. Her life revolves around church, friends, family, chores on the family's dairy farm, and her job at a fabric shop in town. She dreams of marrying a fine Amish man who's not a farmer because she knows how much hard work is involved in farming and she wants to keep her job in town. You can guess where this is going: a handsome young man, a cousin of one of her friends, comes to town; they fall in love; she thinks he's aiming for a trade; it turns out he's a farmer (oh no!); but it all comes right in the end. I found it well-written and an easy read.
• For a travel memoir, I waffled. I started with Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon on a friend's recommendation, but found it too slow paced for me right now. (I might be a little anxious to get this challenge over with.) So I fell back on my original goal of a travel memoir written by a woman and picked Let's Not Play Small: A Memoir of Divorce, Healing, and Reinvention Through Solo Travel by Dawn Ritter Fischer. And I had problems with it. For starters, I'm not the right audience for this book; the author describes it as a "book to inspire women to travel solo. An invitation to step into the unknown and uncover the extraordinary within themselves. A summons to absorb the life lessons and embrace the self-discovery that arrives when we dare to do the uncommon." Unfortunately, this mission statement doesn't show up until page 272. I've already done a fair bit of solo travel, including some international trips, although I haven't chucked it all and gone full-tilt nomad as she has, so her exhortations to not "play small" throughout had me sighing in resignation. Also, the book could use better editing, including cropping out her repeated use of "little did I know" foreshadowing. Full disclosure: I skipped the bonus section with tips for the nomad life. When she actually wrote about her travel experiences, it was a decent read, but otherwise the book wasn't for me.
• For a slow-burn romance, I read This Kingdom Will Not Kill Me by Ilona Andrews, the pseudonym of a husband-and-wife team. This is a terrific book, y'all. It's a portal fantasy. A woman named Maggie is yanked out of our world and dumped in the world of an unfinished fantasy trilogy, the first two books of which she has read and re-read to the point of being able to quote large chunks of them from memory. She immediately knows where in the story she has arrived, and she's able to rise in society by "prophesying" what's going to happen next. Of course she gets involved with a duke in disguise; eventually she figures out who he really is, and then you get into the typical "I'm super attracted to you but you lied to me so I can't love you except I do" slow-burn dance. But it's all very well done. This is the first of Andrews' books that I've read; apparently there are Easter eggs galore for their fans. It's also the first book in a series, and I'm already jonesing for the next one. (Here's hoping they don't leave the series unfinished...)

Since my goal to complete the challenge was six books, I only have to read one more. It needs to be a book that I meant to read last summer -- which I'm translating as "anything sitting unread on my Kindle that I didn't buy this year". I'm still mulling over that choice. But the winner may be Underground Airlines by Ben H. Winters, published in 2016. I recently saw it mentioned on some listicle or other, and it turns out it's been sitting on my Kindle for who knows how long. (Amazon knows how long; I bought it at the tail end of 2016.) The genre is alternative US history. The premise is that President Lincoln was assassinated before issuing the Emancipation Proclamation, the Civil War never occurred, and slavery is still legal in four Southern states. It got a lot of praise when it was released, as well as some criticism because the author is white and is describing Black experiences. I'll let you know what I think.

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Besides traveling and reading more than I have in several years, I've also hatched a plan for a new craft project. 

I have finally admitted to myself that the window shades in the bedroom and office/craft room drive me crazy. They are honeycomb shades, but not the nicer kind; the shade material feels kind of like cardboard, and the giant metal strip at the bottom bangs loudly against the window frame in a breeze. They do open at the top and bottom (which I didn't discover until about a month ago), but honestly it's not a feature that's a dealbreaker for me (evidenced by the fact that I didn't discover they could do it until about a month ago). 

Nice honeycomb shades are spendy, as I learned when I replaced the blinds on the fabulous wall o' windows last year. I thought maybe I would prefer Roman blinds for these rooms instead; if nothing else, there would be less hardware to clank against the window. Of course my windows are not a standard size, so they would have to be custom. So I did a little looking around online. Even at sale prices, custom Roman blinds are almost as spendy as honeycomb shades.

But they're just big fabric rectangles and some dowel rods, I thought. How hard would it be to make them?

Long story short: we are going to find out. 

I've already ordered all the fabric. For the office/craft room, I'm getting a William Morris willow print in a performance linen that will match the Ruggable rug I use as a chair pad at my desk. For the bedroom, I'm going with a midnight blue swirl pattern in a sateen finish. The lining fabric is also on the way, as is the hardware for pulling the shades up. And I've been looking at videos for assembly directions. (I've been laughing at the ones where they're drawing lines on the fabric and cutting the pieces out with scissors. Have these people never heard of rotary cutters?)

Anyway, stay tuned.

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These moments of reading and crafty blogginess have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Stay cool!

Free art in Santa Fe.

I'm writing this on Friday because this weekend is the Spring Festival at El Rancho de las Golondrinas and I'll be volunteering in the dye shed all day Sunday. Here's hoping I don't have to amend this post with comments about some crazy thing or other out of Washington.

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I feel fortunate that my last couple of jobs have been in virtual art galleries -- and by "virtual", I don't mean iPads or something, I mean actual art on the walls. At the New Mexico State Capitol, aka the Roundhouse, where I work now, the art is open to the public, plus there are a couple of spots that feature rotating exhibitions. And it's all free, which you can't say about the other museums in town (ahem).

When you first come in the east side visitor's entrance (which is all torn up right now due to construction, but if you go around the fencing, you can get in through the ADA-accessible door on the left), if you go straight ahead, you'll see a cool textile exhibit by local artists. 

This first piece fascinates me; it's called Patches of Blue, and it's by Michelle Jackson. She must have stitched the squares together on tear-away interfacing. Presumably someone could wear the jacket. I mean, it wouldn't fit me, but someone could wear it. 

Lynne Cantwell 2026

Then there's this piece. It's called Frisky, and it's by Stephanie Lerma. I saw them bringing it in when the exhibit first opened; it's at least four feet wide by four feet tall, and I thought then that it wouldn't be out of place at Meow Wolf across town. 

Lynne Cantwell 2026

That's just a taste -- there are a bunch more cool pieces. This exhibit will be up through December.

If you go back to the entrance and take the elevator up to the fourth floor, you'll be at the governor's office. There's a little rotating gallery behind the reception desk. A couple of years ago, I posted about an exhibit there of sci-fi-related stuff from the New Mexico Museum of Space History. The current exhibit features pieces from the collection of the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture, some of which have never been on display. I love this one: it's by Frank Buffalo Hyde (Onondaga/Nez Perce), and it's called Buffalo Fields Forever: To Infinity and Beyond. It just strikes me as quintessentially New Mexico.

Lynne Cantwell 2026

One more: This bronze statue is by Estella Loretto (Jemez Pueblo), and it's called Morning Prayer. (She's the same artist who created Earth Mother, the statue outside the Roundhouse that I use for my Facebook avatar when the legislature is in session.)

Lynne Cantwell 2026

This exhibit moves out sometime mid to late next month, so if you're interested, you'd best get a move on. But even if you miss it, you can tour all the art hanging on the walls in the public areas. And did I mention it's free?

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My summer reading challenge is moving right along. I'll have an update on that next weekend.

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These moments of artistic blogginess have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. Stay cool!

Technology is here to help us. Yeah, right.

I was today years old when the USB-C revolution came for me.

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It occurred to me this past week, when I was finishing a book for the IU Summer Reading Challenge (update on that in a sec), that my Kindle Paperwhite seemed to be running awfully slowly. Page turns weren't as crisp as they should have been, and searching for a book in the online store was pretty much a nightmare. 

Do you remember that meme about Microsoft Explorer? There are several variations, but here's one: Someone is leading a cheer amongst Firefox, Explorer, Opera, and Safari. The first question is, "What are we?" "Browsers!" three of the browsers reply. "What do we want?" "More speed!" the same three browsers say. "When do we want it?" "Right now!" those same browsers say. And Explorer finally yells out, "Browsers!"

Shopping the Kindle store on my Paperwhite was like that. 

So I checked my purchase history on Amazon. Come to find out my device was an 8th generation Paperwhite, purchased in 2017. (I also recalled that I bought it then because someone had swiped my previous Paperwhite off my desk at the law firm, but never mind that.) The newest Paperwhite is generation 12.

It then occurred to me that maybe I hadn't been so keen on reading lately because my old Paperwhite was making the process less than pleasant. So I shelled out for a new one.

It arrived yesterday. It's a titch bigger than my old one, so I've ordered a new case. And I discovered something else when I went to plug it in for a full charge: the plug is different. My old Paperwhite has a micro USB port. The new one has a USB-C.

Micro USB on top, USB-C on bottom.
Lynne Cantwell | June 2026

I vaguely recalled Apple being in a kerfuffle with the European Union a while back over its proprietary Lightning port. Seems the powers-that-be in the EU got tired of needing different cords and chargers for different devices, so they forced Apple to switch over to USB-C as of 2024. What I missed back then was that the new law applied to other tech devices, too -- including Kindles.

I regarded the new cord for a minute, and then I texted my daughters. I'm the only iPhone user in the family; they both switched to Android several years ago. And they confirmed that their current phones take USB-C cables. "You'll be using that, too, next time you get a new phone," Kitty said.

She's right. The new iPhone models all come with USB-C ports. Thanks a lot, EU.

Don't get me wrong -- I am all for standardization. It's just that I've gotten whiplash from all the tech changes I've lived through: for audio, vinyl to 8-track to cassette to CD to vinyl again; and for video, Betamax (anyone remember that one?) to videocassette to DVD to Blu-Ray to streaming to the gods alone know what will come next. And that doesn't begin to cover all the different connectors for different devices and purposes.

If USB-C is the final iteration for chargers and cables, okay. One port to rule them all! I just hope it stays that way. I'm tired of buying new tech just to keep up.

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I am going to have to keep at least one micro USB cable, though; my ancient Anker five-charge portable battery still needs one for recharging.

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Oh, right. The reading challenge. I have finished two books this week! And that was on the old, slow-as-molasses-in-January Kindle, too.

(I debated whether to resurrect the Rursday Reads blog for this project, but it hardly seems worth it for only six books.)

First, Heinlein's The Door into Summer: Published in 1957, this is sci-fi for fun. The novel opens in 1970. Dan Davis is an electronics engineer who is a genius at developing robots that make life easier for human beings. He hooks up with a partner, Miles, who has a head for business, and they get along swimmingly until they bring in Belle Gentry to be their bookkeeper. Belle pulls a grand con on both of them, swindling Dan out of his share of the company. Dan drinks himself into a stupor, then decides that he and his cat Pete should take what's called the Cold Sleep -- suspended animation -- for 30 years and wake up in 2000. Belle screws that up for him, too, or so it seems; Belle reengineers Dan's plans and Pete runs away. When Dan wakes up in 2000, he discovers he is flat broke. It takes him a while, but he hatches a plan to time-travel back to 1970, rescue Pete, and make sure Belle doesn't get all his money, after all. 

Here in 2026, it was entertaining for me to see what Heinlein got right about 1970 (not much) and 2000 (even less). This was written well before his Lazarus Long period, so while there's misogyny in the book, it's not as bad as Heinlein got in his later years. I ended up enjoying it.

The second book I read was Wok Walk by Melissa Bowersock. This is volume 50 in her series featuring an ex-LAPD detective named Lacey Fitzpatrick and her husband, a Navajo medium named Sam Firecloud. Together they investigate cases in which a dead person's spirit stays earthbound for some reason; between Lacey's research and Sam's talent for contacting those spirits, they are able to get them to move on to the next world. In this volume, the client is a family who own a Chinese restaurant. The patriarch is shot to death, out of the blue, on the back stoop of the restaurant while on a smoking break; as Sam discovers, even the victim doesn't know who killed him or why. The police, too, are stymied. Eventually the truth is uncovered, the shooter is not who I expected, and the family members are able to get closure on more than just the patriarch's death.

I'm not gonna lie: One reason I like this series is because the books are short. They are more like novellas than novels. But I also enjoy the dynamic between Lacey, Sam, and Sam's children, and it's fun watching the kids grow. And the horror is usually minimal. Plus Melissa is a friend and fellow Indies Unlimited contributor, and she writes well. What more can you ask?

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So that's where we're at. Next up is a book recommended to me by Kay Robinett, This Kingdom Will Not Kill Me by Ilona Andrews. I'm not sure whether I've read anything by Andrews before, but Kay loved the book, so I'm going to give it a whirl. I'll report back. 

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These moments of technological blogginess have been brought to you, as a public service, by Lynne Cantwell. I promise to keep reading if you will.