A preening president, smiling from an air-conditioned luxury box at the World Cup final, enjoys the spectacle while American soldiers in the Middle East sit exposed to incoming missiles and artillery. The contrast is jarring: comfort and applause for those at the top, danger and sacrifice for those at the bottom.
The incongruities multiply.
The Secretary of Health and Human Services, whose public profile has long overshadowed his scientific credentials, dispenses medical advice while Dr. Andrew Fauci—an 85-year-old physician and career public servant who helped lead the nation’s response to COVID-19 and other infectious disease threats—is hauled before congressional critics more interested in campaign clips than sober inquiry. Washington has become a theater where expertise is booed from the stage while confidence, however unearned, receives a standing ovation.
If you are Donald Trump, a member of his family, a political insider, or the CEO of a corporation eager to flatter the administration, the economy may look quite favorable. Outside that circle, the picture is less rosy. Families contend with expensive gasoline, rising food and health-care costs, and for some, the growing anxiety that an expanding conflict could one day place their sons and daughters in uniform.
According to recent polling, only about one-third of Americans support military action against Iran. Yet the machinery grinds on while Congress performs its favorite civic duty: watching. It occasionally stirs itself—not to confront the nation’s most pressing problems, but to stage another hearing destined to produce more fundraising emails than useful legislation.
The nation may eventually run short of fuel, but there is no danger of running short of hot air. Washington produces it in inexhaustible quantities. I remember the gasoline rationing of the 1970s. At the current pace, one wonders whether history is preparing an encore.
History will not be kind to the people of the United States. We scroll endlessly through our iPhones, binge stale entertainment, and anesthetize ourselves with online gambling, crypto speculation, and relentless consumerism while our culture erodes and our economic and political institutions decay. Future generations will curse us—not for what happened to our country, but for how little we cared.
Aphorisms below that caught my eye and mind and address the insanity of today…
I feel much better, now that I’ve given up hope.
Ashleigh Brilliant
Filling our pockets, we empty our hearts.
Dražen Jergović
Opinions, and not religion, are the opium of the people.
Being open-minded requires a lot of effort. Being narrow-minded is effortless.
Piotr Bardzik
The poor always fight the wars of the rich.
Never hire the best lawyer; the worst judge will be cheaper.
Andrzej Majewski
The truly strong are those who aren’t driven by the need to prove their strength.
Richard Greene
Judge us by how we treat the weak not by how we arm the strong.
Charles R. Castle
To close the deficit we need to raise taxes on 5 out of every 4 Americans.
Oleg Vishnepolsky
The men the American people admire most extravagantly are the most daring liars; the men they detest most violently are those who try to tell them the truth.
The United States turns 250 this year. As someone born in 1952, I can’t help but reflect on what I’ve witnessed over the past seven decades. These aren’t political conclusions so much as personal observations from someone who has watched this remarkable country evolve.
1. I believe I saw and experienced the best of America. My father enlisted in the armed services in 1942 at just 17 years old and fought in the European Theater during World War II. His generation accepted sacrifice as a duty rather than a burden. I sometimes wonder whether my Baby Boomer generation—and those that followed—have fully appreciated the price that was paid to build and preserve this nation.
2. Our citizens deserve better than their leaders. In my experience, most Americans are decent, hardworking people who want many of the same things: safety, opportunity, and a better future for their families. Too often, however, our political system rewards division instead of service. I suspect the Founding Fathers would be less surprised by disagreement than by the degree of partisanship, distrust, and self-interest that seems to dominate public life today.
3. Respect for America feels diminished. Perhaps every generation believes the nation’s standing has slipped, but it seems to me that America’s reputation—both at home and abroad—has become more fragile. Friends and allies who once looked to us with confidence now seem more uncertain. Whether deserved or not, that perception should concern all of us.
4. Even great nations can grow old. At 74, I’ve learned that age brings wisdom, but it can also bring rigidity and decline. Sometimes our country feels that way. We seem weighed down by old arguments, old grievances, and old ways of thinking. America doesn’t need to abandon its principles; it needs an infusion of fresh ideas, empathy, practical problem-solving, and leaders who place country above party.
5. Unity still exists—we just don’t see enough of it. One of the things that has encouraged me recently is watching Americans rally behind our national teams, particularly in international competitions like the World Cup. For brief moments, politics fades into the background, and we remember that we are cheering for the same flag. I wish those moments weren’t so rare.
6. Washington’s dysfunction has become contagious. Las Vegas has the saying, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” I sometimes wish Washington operated under a similar rule. Unfortunately, the anger, cynicism, and partisan warfare that dominate our nation’s capital seem to spill into every community, every family gathering, and every conversation. We would all be better served if more of that stayed inside the Beltway.
7. The years ahead matter more than we may realize. History reminds us that nations are rarely destroyed from the outside before they weaken from within. I don’t believe America’s greatest threat is another Civil War fought with armies. I worry more about a quieter conflict—one driven by cultural division, economic inequality, religious differences, and our growing inability to disagree without viewing one another as enemies. If we lose our willingness to listen, compromise, and respect one another, we risk losing something just as valuable as territory: our national identity.
As America celebrates its 250th birthday, I remain grateful to have lived here and optimistic enough to believe our best chapters have not necessarily been written. But optimism alone isn’t a strategy. The next generation will inherit the country we choose to build—or neglect—today.
Roughly one in five lawyers who worked in the government at the end of 2024 had left by March of this year, according to a New York Times analysis of federal employment data.
Along with the usual retirements and turnover in the federal work force, the last year saw deep staffing cuts and the resignations of some staff members who objected to Mr. Trump’s policies. Their departures show how rapidly the president has eroded the image of the federal government as the gold standard for lawyers seeking public service roles.
At the moment, the United States is negotiating with a regime that President Trump claimed we had already changed, to open a strait that was supposed to be open last month, and to end a nuclear program that we said we had obliterated… Not only was Iran able to immediately and decisively close the Strait of Hormuz; it’s now clear that the Iranian regime inflicted significant damage on American bases in the region and significant damage on oil and natural gas production around the Persian Gulf. In addition, in spite of U.S. air superiority, the Islamic republic was able to damage or destroy at least 42 manned and unmanned American aircraft.
Six in 10 Americans (59%) say they read at least one book in 2025, a new YouGov survey finds. That’s in line with similar YouGov surveys in 2024 and 2023. Most Americans who did read books only finished a handful of books, while a minority of Americans were plowing through the pages. Here’s what YouGov found about Americans’ 2025 book-reading habits:
Besides the 40% of Americans who didn’t read any books in 2025, another 27% read one to four books. And 13% read five to nine books. That leaves 19% of Americans who read 10 or more books, including 9% who read 10 to 19 books, 6% who read 20 to 49 books, and 4% who say they read 50 or more books.
(I am surprised that 10% of Americans read more than 20 books per year. I don’t know many in my circle of friends and acquaintenances who have read even five books a year.)
Science is going to have to research whatever happened to the American backbone. Was it removed from many U.S. babies beginning in the 1950’s? Someone who has been away from this country in the past two years would not recognize or understand what has happened. Total capitulation by the Congress and many of the American public!
I’ve never had much appetite for horror—neither on the screen nor on the page. Tales of cruelty, suffering, and human rot hold little charm for me. And yet, each morning, with a kind of reluctant curiosity, I scan the headlines. That’s where the real horror lives now—brewing not in some gothic castle, but in Washington, D.C..
Consider this week’s “trailers”:
About 6 in 10 say they try to avoid Trump news U.S. debt tops 100% of GDP Inflation spikes to 3.5% as conflict with Iran drives prices higher The U.S. military was losing its edge—after Iran, everyone knows it Americans struggle under rising health insurance premiums after Congress declines to extend tax credits Trump delivers a word-salad response when asked about congressional approval for war
It would be comforting to dismiss all this as fiction. But unlike a novel by Stephen King, there is no final chapter, no closing of the book—only the uneasy sense that the plot is still unraveling.
Image by Chat GPT
The bitter truth is this: the public, in its wisdom or folly, has had a hand in conjuring these monsters. Not with the dramatic panic of Martians descending from the skies, but with ballots cast, loyalties hardened, and reason often set aside.
In Congress, the spectacle borders on the servile. One is reminded less of statesmen and more of Renfield, ever watchful, ever obedient, fearful above all of displeasing the Master.
And the public? There is protest, yes—but it is largely polite, contained, almost quaint. Handmade signs. Chants that echo briefly and fade. No torches, no reckoning—just a low, persistent murmur of discontent.
Meanwhile, the monsters do what monsters do: they carry on, untroubled, perhaps even amused. The republic searches for its kryptonite—and has yet to find it.
I feel like I am a family member whose father has gone on a drunken murder spree and murdered innocent women and children randomly in the streets. To make it worse, other members of my family support him and make excuses for his insane actions.
“We are on track to complete all of America’s military objectives shortly — very shortly,” he said. “We are going to hit them extremely hard over the next two to three weeks. We’re going to bring them back to the Stone Ages, where they belong.”
Donald J. Trump 4/1/26 Address to nation
Washington has become the court of Nero, a fiery emperor, submissive courtiers and a ketamine-fueled jester in charge of purging the civil service…Never in history has a President of the United States capitulated to the enemy. Never has anyone supported an aggressor against an ally. Never has anyone trampled on the American Constitution, issued so many illegal decrees, dismissed judges who could have prevented him from doing so, dismissed the military general staff in one fell swoop, weakened all checks and balances, and taken control of social media.
Claude Malhuet on the End of American Democracy, speaking in the French Senate, Tuesday, March 4, 2025.
Most of America is exhausted with all the lies, buffoonery, hypocrisy, incompetence and delusions in Washington. With all the firings (Bondi, Noem etc.) can we fire Donald Trump too? Then we must seriously question the judgment of the people who voted for and still support him.
There was a time when I could sit for hours and read without interruption—five or six books a month, fully absorbed. At 73, that kind of sustained attention has faded. I now struggle to finish three books a month, and even then, my focus isn’t what it once was.
Newport argues that technology—especially the ever-present phone—has rewired our attention. His advice is deceptively simple: keep your phone out of reach. When it’s not within arm’s length, it loses its power to hijack your thinking. A small habit, perhaps, but one that hints at a larger truth: we are living in an age of constant distraction.
That theme—diminished focus—feels like it extends beyond the personal and into the national.
I’ve been watching commentary from Paul Krugman on the current tensions involving the U.S. and Iran. In one particularly sharp observation, he contrasted the so-called “Best and the Brightest” of the Lyndon B. Johnson era—those who guided America into Vietnam—with what he jokingly calls today’s equivalent: “the worst and the dumbest.”
The remark is biting, but it reflects a deeper concern about competence in leadership. Krugman suggests that this problem may not be confined to politics alone but could extend into the military, where experienced leadership has reportedly been sidelined in favor of loyalty.
Watching recent confirmation hearings only reinforces that impression. Time and again, nominees evade straightforward questions—particularly those concerning January 6, 2021 United States Capitol attack and the outcome of the 2020 election. The refusal to engage plainly with basic facts is not just frustrating—it’s revealing.
All of this points to a broader unease: a sense that competence, once expected as a baseline, is now optional.
Leadership matters most in moments of uncertainty, and yet this is when clarity, judgment, and integrity seem in shortest supply. The handling of tensions abroad, particularly involving Iran, reflects not just strategic missteps but a deeper erosion of seriousness.
Even figures like Pete Hegseth—sometimes dismissed as more performative than substantive—have come to symbolize this shift. The comparison to “Baghdad Bob” may be harsh, but it captures a growing perception: rhetoric is replacing reality.
Perhaps Newport’s observation applies more broadly than he intended. When attention fragments, so does judgment. And when judgment falters at the highest levels, the consequences are no longer personal—they are national.
“We didn’t tell anybody about it because we wanted surprise,” he said. “Who knows better about surprise than Japan, OK? Why didn’t you tell me about Pearl Harbor, OK? Right?”
There was some laughter from the officials and journalists gathered in the room. “You believe in surprise, I think, much more so than us,” he added.
As Mr. Trump spoke, Ms. Takaichi (Japanese Prime Minister) widened her eyes and appeared to take a deep breath. She kept her arms crossed in her lap and did not speak.
My commentary:
Trump should be very careful about “Pearl Harbor references. The United States was in negotiations with Iran when it launched its attack. According to Oman diplomats who were facilitating the meetings, negotiations were going quite well and peace seemed reasonable as Iran had agreed to many of U.S. demands. Then the U.S. began to bomb Iran. In December 1941, the United States and Japan were also in the midst of diplomatic negotations and this provided confidence to the U.S. that no hostile acts from Japan were imminent. On December 7, 1941 Japan attacked Pearl Harbor
2. Any journalist or official who laughed at that remark is an idiot and not worthy of being in a room with the stature of the Japanese Prime Minister and she would be right to consider the laughter as an insult to her personally and Japan.
3. Trump desperately needs not to make any more enemies or to make enemies feel more embittered to the United States. Japan, like most of the world is getting screwed from rising oil prices. And Trump wonders why no one takes him seriously.
It is a curious coincidence that my current mood mirrors the title of our military operation in Iran: “Epic Fury.” The name suggests thunder, certainty, and righteous purpose. The reality, at least from the cheap seats, looks more like improvisation.
I have lived long enough to watch the United States march confidently into a number of foreign adventures—Vietnam, Afghanistan, Libya, Bosnia, and Iraq. Each was introduced with a sense of urgency and moral clarity. Most ended with a mixture of exhaustion, regret, and unanswered questions. Our present venture in Iran already shows signs of joining that distinguished club, perhaps even eclipsing it.
The consequences are beginning to show up in the most ordinary places. Less than two weeks ago, I was able to buy gasoline for $2.75 a gallon. Today the price stands at $3.29, nearly a 20 percent increase in a remarkably short time. If the conflict drags on—and poorly managed wars have a habit of doing just that—it is not difficult to imagine four- or even five-dollar gasoline within a couple of months.
Military operations also have political consequences beyond the battlefield. Whatever chance there might have been for ordinary Iranians to rise up against their government likely vanished with the bombing of a school that reportedly housed more than 160 girls. Matters were made worse when the President of the United States denied American responsibility for the strike, despite widespread evidence suggesting otherwise. In international affairs, credibility is a fragile currency; once spent, it is not easily replenished.
Meanwhile, reports have surfaced of American citizens stranded in the Middle East and struggling to return home. Many of them have publicly criticized the government’s response as slow and ineffective. European nations appear to have moved more quickly to assist their citizens. One might think that when preparing to launch military action in a volatile region, the vulnerability of civilians traveling there would be among the first considerations.
At home, the tone of official commentary has been oddly celebratory. President Donald Trump and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth have spoken enthusiastically about the progress of the war, as though they were watching a football game and cheering for the home team. The president has even suggested that victory is already at hand. One cannot help recalling the moment when George W. Bush stood beneath a banner reading Mission Accomplished during the early days of the Iraq War—history’s way of reminding us that wars rarely consult our schedules.
Equally striking is the silence from United States Congress, which has shown little appetite for asserting its constitutional role in declaring war. In an odd twist, the make shift government of Iraq seems to have displayed more backbone than the legislative branch of the United States.
Nor does the rhetoric appear to be cooling. The president and Senator Lindsey Graham have already floated the possibility of confronting Cuba next. If this pace continues, the rest of the world may soon revive the old phrase “axis of evil,” this time with the United States awkwardly included in the lineup.
Yet the most unusual feature of this conflict may be the public reaction—or lack of it. There is little enthusiasm for the war. Outside of Fox News, vocal support seems muted. To be sure, few people mourn the death of Ruhollah Khomeini, but his successor—his son, widely described as even more militant—now stands ready to assume power. If the goal was regime change, the results remain unclear and may even prove counterproductive.
At the same time, there are no massive protests in the streets. My suspicion is that the country is suffering from a kind of national exhaustion—call it Trump fatigue. Americans have been through so many political convulsions in recent years that many seem to have retreated into weary silence. That quiet might evaporate quickly if the conflict expands into a ground war requiring a military draft.
History provides its own contrast. During World War II, the United States benefited from the leadership of Franklin D. Roosevelt and a formidable group of experienced military commanders. Today’s leadership—President Trump and Secretary Hegseth—presents a different picture. Comparisons are inevitable, though perhaps best left unstated.
Where all this leads is anyone’s guess. The conflict has already begun to ripple through the global economy and the delicate machinery of international politics. My own sense is that the outcome will prove costly for the United States in both arenas. At the moment, the only nation that appears satisfied is Israel. Elsewhere, goodwill toward America is becoming a scarce commodity.
For a country that prides itself on making friends and leading alliances, that may turn out to be the most serious casualty of all.
