This Carbon Based Life

By David Glenn Cox

Tomorrow is so far away and I wonder and wonder away, will we ever catch a break? Or maybe this is our lucky break? We haven’t blown ourselves up to Valhalla yet. That’s good news! A report says Europe has about six weeks of jet fuel on hand. That doesn’t mean it is equally distributed, and soon shortages may appear. Sorry, your flight at the height of the travel season has been canceled. Everyone else, the lucky ones, get an outrageous fuel surcharge.

A harbinger to remind us that those bad side effects set to take place in the future are fast approaching. Fuel prices are the least of our problems. Gas lines, not gas prices, could be the problem. You remember 2020; it’s the supply disruption. Everything slows down until shortages appear. Sometimes it feels like we’re living in a Road Runner cartoon. Just senseless violence and random Acme stupidity.

Satan-Trump is sending shady JD to Islamabad to negotiate our victory and surrender. According to Trump-Satan (he demanded his name come first. You understand.) We have won the war, and the enemy lies prostrate at our feet, begging for mercy. But the Strait of Hormuz is still closed, and the world economy is still imperiled. Hooray! We won the war! Except the Strait of Hormuz is still closed and the world economy is still in grave danger! We won everybody! We won! Hooray!

Maybe if they say it long enough, it will become somehow closer to the truth. This play-acting is for the benefit of the Fox News crowd. “Look, Ethel, Trump won the war! Praise Jebus.” Why is JD going to Islamabad? Did the US choose Islamabad? No, they didn’t. If they did, they would have chosen a time-media friendlier location. Come to Paris to sign the instrument of surrender! But Islamabad is considered a neutral location. The US isn’t in charge of the location? Then the US didn’t win anything, if there was no signing ceremony on the battleship Missouri.

The regular cast of the criminal coalition, Mr. Wyckoff and Mr. Son in law are present, but sidelined, so step aside. Here comes Shady JD onto the world stage! Stay back, don’t crowd. Don’t be nervous; it’s just your entire political career. If for one second you thought this was some sort of victory, where’s Trump? Would he miss out on any adore me camera time, basking in his triumph? Back during Covid, Trump assigned hapless Mike Pence to be his special Covid administration leader. Then, once Covid became big news and Trump damn near pushed Mike Pence off the stage taking over. The Narcissist in Chief always, always, needs more camera time on himself.

Do you see what Trump is doing here? He’s sending JD Vance to do the negotiating. Send JD; he’s expendable. If JD pulls a rabbit out of a hat, Trump will take credit for it. But if it goes badly? (Most likely) That’s it for JD’s future, assigning him a place in the Dan Quayle Hall of forever-finished former Vice-Presidents. A thankless task assigned to a man with little more foreign policy experience than the average person on the street. So what is JD actually bringing to the table? Negotiating skill? Or the prestige of the Office of the Vice President?

As Churchill would say, “JD is delivering a large lump of ice to the North Pole.” Look, Ma! I’m negotiating with both my hands tied behind my back! Victory? See how they run. Send JD, he’s expendable! History teaches us that when Trump projects, it’s generally a complete inversion of the truth. Trump tweets, We have all the ammunition in the world, and then the story breaks. The US was running short of ammunition or “I’ve been cleared of the Epstein thing.” So, Trump sends JD on a political suicide mission with, Good luck!

There is only room for one in the spotlight, unless it’s that pie in the face scene. Good luck, JD! Now, here’s the plan. You convince the Iranians to give us everything we want and let us declare victory and immediately reopen the Strait.

In reality, JD is stuck in the mud with no traction. The Iranians have seen American military might and have withstood it. Now watch Iran strangle the world economy and see how well the US can stands up to it? Let’s see how long the world puts up with it. When the People’s Republic of China says the US blockading Iran is dangerous. They aren’t warning us to take our Dramamine and wear our hardhats. If China doesn’t get their oil from Iran on schedule, there’s going to be big trouble.

So Trump sends JD into negotiations with a pair of deuces and talks like he has four aces. Take it from here, JD! The US sees itself as too big to lose. Look at all these weapons and aircraft carriers and stuff we’ve got leftover. How could we lose? Iran sees it as an issue of survival itself. This superpower bombs the shit out of your country for basically no other reason than to cover up Israel’s war in Lebanon. Now they want you to sign a peace treaty. Beware of Geeks bearing gifts.

JD’s mission is to get the Strait of Hormuz open again; after that, everything else is negotiable. Trump fires off a verbal salvo with the usual, but rarely reported, war crime instinct and intensity. We’ll blow up all the bridges and power plants. And then, I’ll huff and puff and Blow your house down! I’ll blow up all  your power plants and I’ll pee into your streams! But Trump has already done all of that, and the Strait of Hormuz is still closed.

Amateurs talk tactics, experts talk logistics. Time is not on our side. Time is on Iran’s side, and the world’s time is running short. The Trump administration has a bone stuck in its throat it can neither swallow nor hurl out. The strait is closed and will remain so until the US reaches an accommodation with Iran. Now put yourself in the Trumper’s shoes. You’re a totally incompetent boob originally chosen for your ideology and your financial contributions, and now? Trump has finally gone too far and screwed the pooch! What do you do now? How do you get a prideful, crazy, insane, geriatric with frontal lobe dementia and delusions of grandeur and possibly multiple personalities to admit defeat?

An inglorious peace is better than a dishonorable war. – Mark Twain