Storm Warnings (Weather and Politics)

A blizzard is forecast for tomorrow—10 to 16 inches. Everyone is rushing to the grocery store. I rushed to the library instead, making sure I have enough books to survive the confinement.


My gym—my pickleball refuge—has already announced it will be closed through Wednesday.


Driving past several supermarkets, I saw parking lots packed to capacity. Nothing induces panic quite like the promise of snow.


Storms like this create a kind of white claustrophobia for me. Movement shrinks. The walls feel closer.


A friend’s son recently closed his small Mexican restaurant. It had been doing reasonably well, but food costs made the business untenable. A case of lettuce that cost $20 a few months ago now costs $80. He couldn’t pass that on to customers without losing them, so he shut the doors. So much for affordability.


I watched a few minutes of Real Time with Bill Maher. His guests were James Talarico and Lauren Boebert. Talarico came across as smart, articulate, and measured—Senate material. Boebert, in contrast, added little of substance. I’m still not sure why she was booked.


On a more pleasant note, I watched three films this week, all worth seeing. Solo Mio (**½), a light comedy with Kevin James, Andrea Bocelli, and Nicole Grimaudo, was charming. Nuremberg (**½), with Russell Crowe and Rami Malek, was powerful and timely. Now You See Me 3 () delivered the expected mix of magic, action, and humor from Woody Harrelson, Jesse Eisenberg, Dave Franco, and Morgan Freeman.


We saw Solo Mio in a theater. Even with the senior discount, tickets were $13 each. A small diet soda cost $9. There were barely ten people in the audience. It’s hard to see how movie theaters survive on that model.


I’m reminded of a column I wrote in late summer 2008 suggesting—half seriously—that the election be moved up because the George W. Bush administration seemed paralyzed by the financial crisis. I believed Barack Obama had the intelligence and temperament to navigate the moment. Today, facing domestic, technological, and financial challenges, I feel the same urgency: we need capable, thoughtful leadership. The deficit of judgment in our governing institutions is unsettling.


Even the Wall Street Journal recently described one of Donald Trump’s outbursts as “the worst moment of his presidency.” Given the competition, that is saying something. I doubt we have reached the bottom.

Tanking the Republic

“Tanking” is all the rage in the NBA. It is the calculated decision to stop pretending to compete today in order to improve tomorrow. Lose now, draft later, and pray for salvation in the lottery.


It is hard to avoid the suspicion that the American electorate has adopted a similar strategy. Our current executive, legislative, and judicial rosters show little evidence of being built to win. Perhaps, collectively, we have decided to bottom out in the standings and hope for a better draft class in some future season.


The nation’s most serious intelligence failure is not occurring in a foreign capital; it is the chronic absence of intelligence—judgment, knowledge, and expertise—among too many who hold high office. At precisely the moment when we require leaders capable of navigating artificial intelligence, climate disruption, geopolitical instability, and the inevitability of another pandemic, the bench has been cleared of the studious and the competent. In their place stand political improvisers, confidently winging it.


The much-discussed Epstein files, said to number in the millions of pages, have become a Rorschach test for institutional credibility. In the popular imagination, their handling has elevated cynicism to an Olympic sport. Watergate, once the gold standard of scandal, now risks being remembered as a procedural misdemeanor—a historical jaywalking citation.


One is tempted—half seriously, half in despair—to suggest turning the whole archive over to artificial intelligence. Let the machines do what our bureaucracies cannot: sort the evidence, connect the names, and identify conduct worthy of prosecution. It would be an ironic triumph if algorithms proved more diligent custodians of justice than the institutions designed for that purpose.

Image by AI

Meanwhile, scandal behaves less like a series of discrete events and more like a metastatic disease, radiating outward from Washington, weakening already fragile civic tissue. The body politic coughs politely while the infection spreads.


Political commentary, however eloquent, feels increasingly like prescribing lozenges for a structural fracture. Words—mine included—are no match for a system that rewards performance over competence and outrage over understanding.


As for last week’s congressional theatrics, one could not help but notice the Attorney General auditioning for a post-government career in the insult-comedy circuit. If the aspiration is to channel Don Rickles, the material requires sharpening and the timing considerable work. Even Mencken, patron saint of American skepticism, understood that ridicule is most effective when it is both precise and economical.


In the meantime, the republic appears committed to playing out the season with a depleted roster, a distracted coaching staff, and a fan base divided between those booing, those cheering, and those already studying next year’s draft prospects.

Review and Commentary: Notes on Being a Man by Scott Galloway

Good book for young men in their 20s and 30s. For this reader in his 70s, it provided some perspective on his life and a bit of a report card on how well he did. Scott Galloway is one of the nation’s top thought leaders. This book is a combination of an autobiography and his notes on how to conduct one’s life as a man. He cites the many issues of masculinity in today’s culture and society and offers his advice on relationships, education, career, family, work and health.

I think Scott has been very lucky. He had a loving and caring mother who filled the parenting roles when his father divorced her. I don’t think many men will identify with his life’s path. Scott worked very hard for his success but there were prices to pay in terms of his first marriage and health. Listed below are some notes of advice from Scott and my commentary regarding its validity and wisdom.

Scott’s NotesMy Notes and Comments
Most boys come apart when a male role model leaves. If there is no father present, the son is more likely to be incarcerated than graduate from college. I don’t think that I’m the exception. My father died when I was seven. I had a caring mother and family for help. I graduated from college. I dealt successfully with adversity.
Success comes when you put in small, consistent amounts of effort, every day and every week.Success comes more from luck, connections and opportunity than effort.
College teaches you critical thinking-how to triage.Depends on the classes, the teacher and the student’s desire to learn. Based on what I see, very few people have marshaled the knack of critical thinking, college or not.
The ratio of time you spend sweating to watching others sweating is forward looking indicator of your success.Unless you are Donald Trump
Your body will sometimes make decisions for you when your brain won’t. Learn to listen to your body.
Good advice when you’re young, better and more valid advice as you get older!

Don’t be afraid to quit. Failing fast is better than failing over a long period.As soon as you start a new job, develop a Plan B to escape if the job does not work out. Have an FU fund.
The best romantic partnerships are synced up on three things: passion, values and money.Money or lack of it ruins many marriages and relationships.

Mind Map of Trump 2025-2026

Tried to get CHAT GPT to create a mind map of the destructive whirlwind that is the Trump administration based on information I provided. It understood about 75% of what I was looking for. I enjoy infographics and illustrations and I will work to improve my efforts in those areas.

As an aside, very concerned around developments of the declining U.S. dollar. Shows declining confidence by investors inside and outside the United States. Treasuries provide the funds needed to fund our government and essentially, the American lifestyle.

Could Not Say It Better Myself

Trump’s enduring legacy is not an institutional structure, but rather a highly toxic culture that has been adopted by many of the president’s followers and will live on after he is gone. Threats against Greenland, NATO, and individual European countries mean that no ally will be able to trust commitments made by the United States again.

Discourse by government officials has been degraded. Cabinet officers and press secretaries know that they don’t have to respond to questions they don’t like because they can simply insult the questioner. And companies will understand that they need to seek individual favors rather than general policies governing entire sectors.

Francis Fukuyama.

How History May Judge the Trump Era

I will not be alive when historians begin to write definitively about the United States during the Trump era. In truth, I would much rather read about it twenty years after it has ended than live through it as it unfolds. Standing in 2026, I find myself trying to imagine what scholars in 2046 might identify as the defining themes, causes, and consequences of this period. I have no time machine—only conjecture.

My assumption is that the central question historians will grapple with is not simply who Donald Trump was, but how and why American voters enabled the Trump era to occur. Inevitably, comparisons will be drawn to other moments in history when democratic systems elevated leaders who later proved deeply polarizing or destructive. Germany in the 1930s will be one such reference point, though careful historians will also emphasize key differences: Germany’s economic collapse, political fragility, and social despair far exceeded conditions in the United States in 2016.

Several lines of inquiry seem likely to dominate future assessments:

  1. Congressional Enablers
    Trump’s support did not emerge in isolation. Historians will likely examine the role of Republican members of Congress who, with few exceptions, aligned themselves with Trump despite repeated controversies, ethical questions, and institutional challenges. Whether motivated by ideology, fear of political retaliation, or electoral self-preservation, their collective restraint—or lack of resistance—will invite comparison with earlier moments when legislators faced tests of independence and conscience, including those explored in John F. Kennedy’s Profiles in Courage.
  2. The Supreme Court and the Long View
    A twenty-year gap may provide a more balanced framework for evaluating the Trump-era Supreme Court. With time, historians will be better positioned to assess whether the Court’s decisions strengthened constitutional principles, reshaped social norms, or produced unintended consequences that only became visible over decades.
  3. Corporate Power and Quiet Support
    Many business leaders offered tacit or indirect support for Trump’s agenda, particularly where deregulation and tax policy aligned with their interests. Future researchers will likely scrutinize financial records, lobbying efforts, and private communications to better understand the extent to which economic power influenced public policy—details that were not always transparent in real time.
  4. The Press and the Meaning of Truth
    The so-called mainstream press positioned itself largely in opposition to Trump, yet it did so while facing financial decline and growing competition from social media platforms. One enduring issue of the era was the erosion of shared definitions of “truth” and “fact.” Even well-sourced reporting was frequently dismissed as “fake news,” raising long-term questions about public trust, epistemology, and the role of journalism in a fragmented media environment.
  5. Ideological Media and Political Identity
    Conservative media outlets—most notably Fox News, along with a network of right-leaning digital platforms—played a significant role in shaping how events were interpreted by audiences seeking reinforcement of political and cultural identities. Historians may study this ecosystem as a case study in modern persuasion, examining how narrative repetition, grievance framing, and selective information proved highly effective.
  6. Immigration Enforcement and Historical Comparison
    Immigration policy and enforcement will remain one of the most contested aspects of the Trump era. Some commentators drew historical parallels to authoritarian practices of the past, while others argued such comparisons were exaggerated or inappropriate. With the benefit of distance, historians will likely focus on legality, implementation, humanitarian impact, and rhetoric—allowing future generations to judge the fairness and proportionality of those comparisons.

History rarely delivers simple verdicts. It weighs context, consequences, and contradictions. When the Trump era is finally written about with the benefit of time and distance, the most enduring lesson may not center on one man alone, but on the resilience—or fragility—of democratic institutions and the citizens who sustain them.

Image by Chat GPT; content by EAB

Greenland

My thoughts to a friend about the Greenland situation…

I sometimes wonder whether people at the White House read the news, particularly the business and financial news. For example, they would see that China and Canada have entered major trade agreements, now viewed as a new strategic partnership. The European Union and various South American countries have also just entered into a landmark trade agreement. They might also want to check out who currently holds our US treasuries. After Japan and China, the next eight countries are European and the Cayman Islands. I don’t think you want to piss off people who are holding your paper. I don’t think you also want to piss off countries who will tell you to take your military bases and troops and get the hell out. The rest of the world, particularly our allies are moving on. They can’t trust us and by “us” I mean the government and the American voters who enabled all this. What moves this government is not diplomacy but money and finance and our leverage on those matters are thinning.

I’m Sick of Stupid Too

“I’m sick of stupid” U.S. Sen. Thom Tillis, a North Carolina Republican

Texas A&M Forbids A Plato Reading In An Intro Philosophy Course

Trump’s ‘Superstar’ Appellate Judges Have Voted 133 to 12 in His Favor

Smithsonian Removes Label Noting Trump Impeachments

Trump’s Venezuela, Greenland threats make Canada fear it’s next

State Department warns ‘leave Venezuela now’ as militias hunt US citizens

Rightwing bloggers and Maga minions: meet the Trump-loving Pentagon press corps

Trump Orders Top Army Officials to ‘Draw Up Plan’ to Invade Greenland: Report

‘See What Happens!’ ICE Boss Dares Philly Sheriff to Arrest Agents After Saying They ‘Don’t Want This Smoke’

The CNN anchor (Jake Tapper) then played video from the shooting in which someone was heard calling Renee Good “f*cking b*tch” after ICE agent Jonathan Ross, fired at least three shots.

“Is that Agent Ross’s voice calling Renee Good a f*cking b*tch?” Tapper asked.

“I can’t determine which one it is, but it could be, sir,” Kristi Noem replied.

CNN

Books and Reading: My Lifetime Passion

Of the last fifty books I’ve read, forty came from my local library and ten from Kindle. I didn’t buy a single physical book in 2025. When I do purchase a Kindle title, I rarely pay more than $2.99. That number feels less like thrift and more like a verdict on how I now value books: still important, but no longer precious objects.

I wandered into Barnes & Noble twice this past year. Both times I walked out empty-handed. The books that were heavily discounted held no appeal, and the books I might have been interested in weren’t discounted at all. The store felt less like a literary crossroads and more like a museum gift shop—pleasant to browse, but disconnected from my reading life.

When I’m looking for something new to read, I rely on a small, familiar circle: The New York Times Sunday Book Review, Kirkus Reviews, or Goodreads review.

 1929: Inside the Greatest Crash in Wall Street History–and How It Shattered a Nation by Andrew Ross Sorkin is the only current New York Times nonfiction bestseller I’ve read. I have no interest in the other titles on the list. The hardcover fiction list holds even less appeal; I haven’t read—and don’t intend to read—any of those books.

What surprises me most is not my indifference to bestseller lists, but how little conversation books generate anymore. I honestly can’t remember the last time someone recommended a book to me, or when I had a real discussion with another person about something we’d both read. Books seem to have slipped quietly out of our shared conversations.

That feels especially strange when I think back to being ten or eleven years old, roaming the Pennsauken Library in search of the next Hardy Boys, Tom Swift, or Chip Hilton book. I wish I had even a quarter of the excitement I felt then—the sense of urgency, discovery, and possibility that came with finding the next volume in a series. Reading was once a small, private adventure that somehow felt enormous.

At seventy-three, reading is harder in ways that have nothing to do with motivation. My mind doesn’t focus for long stretches. My eyes tire quickly. Cataracts and floaters dull the sharpness of the page. And beyond the physical changes, there’s the persistent feeling that many books now trigger: been there, done that. As one gets older, interest naturally drains from subjects that once felt endlessly compelling—politics, sports, business, self-improvement, psychology, religion. Not because they don’t matter, but because their patterns repeat.

There’s also the sense that books—especially those about current events, politics, or celebrities—have lost some of their gravity. So much of their content is given away in advance through interviews, podcasts, op-eds, and promotional appearances that the book itself feels like an afterthought, a bound summary of things already half-known.

And yet, despite all of this, I keep reading. Maybe not with the hunger of a child or the ambition of a younger adult, but with a quieter persistence. The library card still works. The Kindle still lights up. And every now and then, a book manages to cut through the fatigue and familiarity, reminding me why reading mattered in the first place—and why it still does, even now.