By David Glenn Cox
Let us open the door and look for ourselves, shall we? I have this theory about the Friday BLS jobs report. If the report had been good. The media would have been all over it with bells and brass bands. And if the report was bad, they would discuss it without citing any blame. But if it was really bad???? Don’t say nothing and just move on. This is the big monthly jobs report which everybody looks at.
It’s not a bloodbath. Or Katie bar the door! It’s more of the same. The black caped figure holds a lantern pointing into the dark night, beckoning us to follow his path. The report is just a hair worse than last month. When the king fired the lady in charge for printing such terrible numbers. Things are clearly slowing down, and the tariffs are just beginning to bite. All the numbers are going the wrong way, but slowly, indicating malaise. Frightened by the king’s “What’s Captain Crazy Pants going to do next” rhetoric? Maybe now isn’t the right time to buy? Maybe now is the right time to buy survival supplies and keep them in the closet.
I saw a room filled with farmers in Arkansas, but it could be any state. The media had carefully edited the piece so as to tell the story without assigning any blame. This is just something that’s happening. We don’t know why? But these farmers were all saying how their livelihoods without direct Federal intervention are about to go dark. The farmers lament they’ve lost their markets. US soybeans are cheaper than South American soybeans. But with the new tariffs, they are more expensive and so, no takers. No names were mentioned, or ideas offered as to who might be responsible for their dilemma. It just sort of happened out of the blue like that, I guess.
The piece was heavily edited, but the message still leaked through. The farmers could lament their condition but couldn’t assign any blame for it. They could blame the tariffs, but they couldn’t blame the king for imposing the tariffs. One farmer lamented, “Our markets are gone. And they are probably not coming back!” But it’s nobody’s fault, really. Costs are high and prices are low. The government used to buy grain to give away to the starving people around the world. Not because we’re woke or charitable, but because it helps the farmer by keeping the prices up and the market stable. The king decided we’re not going to do that anymore. (The sound of glass in the China shop breaking)
Let them eat nothing! Let the commodity prices fall. Arrest all the migrants and make it unsafe for them to come to work and pick the crops. That’s next month, when the harvest begins in earnest. They’re predicting a good harvest of corn and soybeans. In years past, that was good news. This year, it means a large crop will only depress prices further. As the US and the American farmer become the Agricultural source of last resort. Priced right out of world markets.
It would be fun to call schadenfreude and mock farmers for Trump. They know. They’re paying the price for their sins now. Which is why I think Republican redistricting plans are a big waste of time. They’re redistricting areas which used to be Republican districts. Those farmers in Arkansas didn’t sound likely to vote for a Republican again anytime soon. You’re going to need some pretty slick tv ads to convince a person you’ve run out of business and ruined their lives to vote for you again.
The king’s rambling talks, and eccentric actions send a chill through the economy. Yesterday, the king was talking about people “breaking his ass.” And claimed he did a three-hour press conference just to prove he was the picture of health. (Alarm bells!) He’s answering the voices in his head now! Stories which start and stop between his eardrums. With comment and complaint, but without any explanation of who or why.
They were very unfair to me. That’s a terrible publication! “breaking my ass!” It’s hard being king. If they had a cough button or “kill” switch, they would have used it and powered him down like pulling the power pack from him like the “Lost in Space” robot. Power him back up sometime later after the reporters had gone. Mr. Trump was doing them no favors. It was borderline frightening. We’re reaching Jim Jones in his mirrored Ray bans period.
Caligula with his horse, Claudius with his stutter. Napoleon naming himself emperor. The simmering backdoor opinion that the king’s not all there anymore. A three-hour press conference to prove you’re healthy doesn’t prove you’re healthy. It proves the opposite. That’s what’s classically defined as “Not Normal.” I’ll show them! I’ll hold a three-hour press conference! We’ll see who gets tired first! A normal president might have made light of the situation with some Kennedy-like clever quip, rather than forming a personal vendetta over it.
But this is the Prince of pessimism who sees darkness all around on a sunny day. Scrooge with visions of his pocket watch and bed linens being plundered before his body is even cold. All alone. The little boy unloved and all alone becomes the bitter old man unloved and all alone. They all hate me! I know they do! They all do! Well, I’ll show them! I don’t care; I hate them too! An inability to discern reality from just business. And an inability to hide that inability.
“Cray, cray Grandpa time” doesn’t exactly instill business confidence. Nor troops on the street or voter ID threats. Going to change the Department of Defense back to the Department of War. I know it sounds crazy and trivial, but the king has a good reason for it! You see, back when it was called the Department of War, we won World War II. Kicked everyone’s ass, all by ourselves, and nobody questioned it! But ever since we started calling it the Department of Defense, we’ve had problems. Feel better now? Knowing there’s a good reason behind it?
Ding! The toast is done! The king knows nothing of the discontent in Arkansas. The king doesn’t enjoy receiving bad news. People get fired that way! The king is fighting his own war in his own head with the press. Thought I was dead, did you? Well, no such luck for you, sweetheart! Call the old lady and tell her you’re going to be late tonight! We’re having a little press conference! I’ll just talk for a few hours about whatever comes into my mind.
The king of the world gave a press conference. To show the world his sanity and vigor by metaphorically biting the head off a live chicken. And leaving little doubt as to the king’s actual mental state.
Thank you, for reading and supporting “This Carbon-Based Life” A Twilight Zone Adventure where I can’t ever wake up!
This Carbon Based Life 
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