A Letter To Americans (From An American)

Not as funny:

There is also Trump’s apparent fascination with President William McKinley, who held office from 1897 to 1901, at a time when high tariffs concentrated wealth in the hands of industrialists while workers and farmers, as well as their families, faced injury, hunger, and homelessness from dangerous working conditions, low wages and commodity prices, and seasonal factory closings.

Trump has frequently claimed those years were the nation’s wealthiest, and today he helped to explain his focus on that era when he referred to the 1913 Revenue Act, a law that has angered the right wing for decades. That act began the process of replacing the high tariffs of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries with an income tax, thus shifting the burden of funding the treasury from ordinary Americans through tariffs to wealthier Americans through the income tax. At least some of Trump’s tariff plans seem tied to his enthusiasm for tax cuts on wealthy individuals and corporations.

But in trying to reestablish the financial patterns of the late nineteenth century—patterns that led to profound economic instability in the U.S., including economic crashes—Trump is undermining the system of global trade that has fostered international cooperation since World War II. CNN global economic analyst Rana Foroohar told CNN’s John Vause: “This is Trump saying … I am going to overturn globalization as we’ve known it.” She added: “I’m hoping it doesn’t push the U.S. and the world into recession.”

I hope it's the Final Depression, that it kills billions & leaves the survivors wishing they, too, were among the dead.

Happy Wednesday!

Vapor For The Vapid

Swiss Consulate?

No, not the Swiss Consulate.

Hidden Sun

The secret message today is hate, pain, rage & anxiety, you lying rat bastards. Also depression & general numbness. How do people live in this world, surrounded by horrifying pseudo-human flesh robots? Not to mention the metal & electronic robots.

Message To The Ungawdly

Three months down ...

Still Staring At The Sun

It's All A Bad Joke, & We Are Not Amused

Fuck you, slumlords. You're dead, every last one of you.

Might as well kill the upstairs neighbors while I'm on my spree, & why stop before everyone else on the planet is rotting meat? Is there any point to your continued existence? Any reason whatsoever? Not in this reporter's book.

Untitled

Same Shot, Different Seconds