By “them” I mean Herself, and by “cake” I mean “half a cinnamon roll,” and why on earth should Herself be eating cake for breakfast?
Because it’s her birthday, that’s why.
There was but a single candle on the “cake,” because record-low snowpack, record-high temperatures, drought continues, red-flag warnings, etc., et al., and so on and so forth. I lit it up and we hopped around the kitchen like crazed bunnies to The Beatles’ “Birthday,” blaring from a JBL Clip 2 fed a YouTube video by my iPhone 13 Mini. Can’t say we Revered Elders are helpless when it comes to managing all these doggone, consarned, newfangled whizbangs, whatchamacallits, and comosellamas, even the ones whose “new” is mostly wore off leaving only the “fangled” bits.
Once breakfast is in the rear view there will be a short trail run followed by some medium-light shopping, a lunch without so much cake in it, and a delicious dinner that may or not conclude with cake, depending upon whether we can get to The Range before they run out and/or close, which happens early in these dire days, when no one can afford gasoline, much less three servings of cake per diem.
You wouldn’t believe the tariff on cake. And you can trust me, because I’m in the media.
A rare bird indeed — a 6-3 majority of the Supremes — just took a dump on His Excremency’s tariff scheme.
Ho boy. Iran best be bracing for the inevitable dick-punch. You just know he’s gonna tell Kegsbreath to have at it now.
Meanwhile, I want a refund for the $32 ransom I had to pay on that Selle Italia 1990 Flite saddle I bought last October. Insert your own “up the butt” joke here.
• Update:Some deets from the smarties at Scotusblog. And some most excellent snark from Betty Cracker at Balloon-Juice, who opines thusly:
You know he’s going to shit a cat. Ms. Wiles will have to surge housekeeping assets to the TV room to sponge the ketchup off the walls.
• Another update: No More Mister Nice Blog has some thoughts on war, tariffs and Trump’s brain, including informative links to pieces in The Wall Street Journal, Financial Times, and other outfits a tad better equipped for heavy duty than Your Humble Narrator..
Herself had just returned from a nine-day trip, so she got caught up on her trail running and weight training while I settled for smashing a few climbs on the Soma Pescadero in my best socialist-red cycling kit.
I feel some remorse over not making our local May Day march, which drew either hundreds or thousands of people, depending upon your news source.
But I’m certain there will be other opportunities to hit the streets for a cause instead of just ’cause. I mean, fascists gonna fascist, amirite? We will not lack for opportunity.
The number of containers scheduled to arrive at the Port of Los Angeles is anticipated to drop more than 35 percent next week compared with the same period last year, data from the port shows. And a quarter of the ships that had been scheduled for May have canceled because of light volume, said Gene Seroka, the port’s executive director.
This is how the recession begins. In Seattle, cargo shipments are down 60 percent. Los Angeles will be next. The recession will make its way east from Seattle and Los Angeles as trucks and freight trains carry less cargo overland.
More companies are starting to warn that they will have to pass on higher costs to American consumers, raising prices for products like strollers, mattresses, power tools and cast-iron cookware as President Trump’s tariffs take hold.
One thing I keep seeing in stories like these is the shock — shock! — among Beelzebozo Believers that they will be among those assuming the position as his “deals” go down.
Consider Michelle Hall, a 48-year-old secretary in Snohomish, Wash. She found shopping online with Temu “addicting and fun” — until she noticed the “import charges” piling up.
She voted for Mr. Trump in November, initially thinking his trade policies could help reduce the deficit, create manufacturing jobs and make the nation less dependent on foreign countries.
Ms. Hall said she never thought her own costs would increase, and she originally hoped that Mr. Trump would quickly bring prices down.
“I wanted to have faith,” she said. “I don’t have that faith anymore.”
See you on the barricades, Michelle. I’ll take a day off the bike if you’ll take a day off from shopping.
Hoo-lawd. Anybody’s portfolio turn into a postcard yet?
In case you’ve missed Paul Krugman, he’s speculating over at Substack that Elon’s Hitler Youth may have cobbled together the tariff scheme using ChatGPT and/or other A.I. models.
In my post immediately following the Trump announcement I speculated that Elon Musk’s Dunning-Kruger kids might be responsible for those tariff numbers. That now looks like a distinct possibility.
Who makes policy this way? The key point is that Trump isn’t really trying to accomplish economic goals. This should all be seen as a dominance display, intended to shock and awe people and make them grovel, rather than policy in the normal sense.
Again, I’m not being snobbish here. When the fate of the world economy is on the line, the malignant stupidity of the policy process is arguably as important as the policies themselves. How can anyone, whether they’re businesspeople or foreign governments, trust anything coming out of an administration that behaves like this?
Good time to be heavily invested in the knee- and elbow-pad markets.
The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was less of a peace treaty and more of a détente, which is the French for “a pause while reloading.” | Photo lifted from RMPBS.
From the Feb. 2 edition of “Today in History,” by The Associated Press: “In 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed, officially ending the Mexican-American War.”
I guess nobody told the Dingaling Bros-Barnum & Beelzebozo Circus. Los siento mucho. Incoming!
Mad Blog Media 