Mike McCready

Tag: economy

  • Regardless of what side you’re on, you want to understand why all of this is happening? Well, here’s why.

    Regardless of what side you’re on, you want to understand why all of this is happening? Well, here’s why.

    The United States stood at a crossroads. We had a choice.

    We could treat the Confederacy for what it was—a violent, anti-democratic insurrection—or we could pretend it was just a “heated disagreement between brothers” and, after the Civil War, go get a beer.

    We chose the beer.

    There were no mass trials.

    No hangings.

    No real cleaning of house.

    The generals went home.

    The politicians went back to Congress.

    The ideology didn’t die; it just took a sabbatical.

    Reconstruction was brief, half-hearted, and violently sabotaged. We did it for about fifteen minutes before getting bored and handing the keys back to the guys in the white hoods. The message was clear:

    You can wage war against the United States—and eventually, we’ll name a high school after you.

    That precedent matters.

    When you don’t punish a rebellion, you don’t end it.

    You franchise it.

    You teach the losers that force works.

    That intimidation works.

    That democracy is optional if you’re loud enough, violent enough, or just willing to wait out the news cycle.

    So the Confederacy didn’t disappear.

    It mutated.

    It became Jim Crow.

    Then “States’ Rights.”

    Then the “Silent Majority.”

    Then the Culture War.

    The branding changes, but the product is the same: hierarchy must be preserved, and the federal government is illegitimate unless it’s hurting the right people.

    Fast-forward to now.

    We have a movement that treats cruelty like a virtue and empathy like a character flaw. A party that views loyalty tests as standard operating procedure. Government agencies weaponized without subtlety. ICE raids staged for prime time.

    To the guys currently cheering this on: you probably think you’re the protagonist in this movie. You think you’re 1776.

    Check your costume.

    You’re wearing 1861 gray.

    You are aligning yourselves with the losers of history’s most obvious moral tests. You are marching in lockstep with the very people your grandfathers crossed an ocean to shoot at.

    The offramp is right here, and it’s simple.

    You don’t need to make a public apology.

    You don’t need to hug a hippie.

    You just need to look at the guys standing next to you—the ones itching for a civil war, the ones measuring drapes for the camps—and ask yourself if that’s really the team photo you want to be in.

    Walk away now, and you can claim you were just confused.

    Stay much longer, and you’re just an accomplice.

    Germany didn’t ban the Nazi party because they were being vindictive. They did it because they learned a lesson we refused to:

    Democracy cannot survive nostalgia for the people who tried to slit its throat.

    We keep acting surprised that authoritarian instincts keep resurfacing in America. But we never dug up the roots.

    We just built monuments on top of them and acted surprised when nothing healthy grew.

  • We have GOT to lower the crime rates in these so-called sanctuary cities. I have an idea that just might work.

    We have GOT to lower the crime rates in these so-called sanctuary cities. I have an idea that just might work.

    After reviewing the data, the solution is obvious.

    Everyone should stop blaming immigrants—and maybe look in the mirror.

    In the very few places that actually track arrests per capita by immigration status (Texas does, which is why it’s always cited), the results are awkward:

    U.S.-born citizens are arrested at higher per-capita rates than undocumented immigrants for violent crime, property crime, and drug offenses.

    Not total arrests.

    Not raw headcounts.

    Arrests per person.

    Undocumented immigrants are also incarcerated at lower per-capita rates than native-born Americans. This isn’t activism. It’s arithmetic.

    As for those ominous “sanctuary cities”:

    When you compare similarly sized cities and adjust for population, there’s no increase in violent crime. Sometimes crime is actually lower. Turns out people who really want to stay here tend to behave. Suspicious, I know.

    This doesn’t mean immigrants never commit crimes. Of course they do. Humans remain undefeated.

    It just means the claim that sanctuary policies “breed crime and violence” collapses once you insist on per-capita data instead of vibes.

    So yes—I have an idea that just might work.

    If we want to lower crime rates, maybe the group committing more crime per person should… commit less of it.

    And while we’re crunching numbers, we might want to check the per-capita crime rate at the White House and consider a few deportations.

    Or at least some incarcerations.

    Radical, I know.

  • Why Do Liberals Love Supporting Freeloaders?

    Why Do Liberals Love Supporting Freeloaders?

    Liberals just want to hand out money. Reward bad behavior. Undermine work. End of story. That’s the charge. It gets tossed out like it explains everything.

    Except that’s not actually what’s happening.

    What liberals support is a social safety net because letting problems fully detonate is the most expensive option on the menu.

    A safety net isn’t a gift.

    It’s damage control.

    Missed paychecks turn into evictions.

    Untreated stress turns into addiction.

    Small setbacks turn into permanent ones.

    And once someone falls far enough, everyone pays more—through policing, courts, emergency services, and long-term dependency. And when a society creates a large enough disenfranchised underclass, it doesn’t just hurt them. It drags everyone down. Or worse, it turns into civil unrest and suddenly nobody lives without bars on their windows.

    This isn’t compassion versus responsibility.

    It’s early intervention versus cleanup.

    We don’t let a roof cave in to teach a lesson about maintenance.

    We fix the leak because structural collapse is a terrible teacher.

    Now—before the objections queue up—yes. Of course there are people who try to rip off the system.

    There always are.

    Every large system has fraud. Defense contracts have fraud. Medicare has fraud. Wall Street has fraud. Corporate tax avoidance alone costs more than every welfare scam combined, but somehow that never becomes a character indictment of all executives.

    We don’t respond to fraud by burning down the system.

    We respond by prosecuting fraud.

    Because designing policy around the worst anecdotes guarantees the worst outcomes.

    Now let’s talk about the group most often labeled “freeloaders.”

    Undocumented workers.

    Here’s where the conversation usually gets loud and sloppy:

    “Why should we let them benefit from government services our tax dollars pay for?”

    But we already do.

    Just not efficiently.

    Not rationally.

    Not cheaply.

    We bar them from basic, preventative healthcare.

    Then act shocked when they end up in emergency rooms—the most expensive square footage in American medicine—with conditions that should’ve been treated earlier for a fraction of the cost.

    ERs don’t check immigration status. They treat people.

    And those bills don’t disappear. They get passed along to hospitals, insured patients, and taxpayers.

    Even under the worst possible system—the dumbest, most expensive way to handle healthcare—undocumented workers are still a net positive to the economy. They work. They pay sales taxes. They pay property taxes through rent. They pay payroll taxes and subsidize Social Security they’ll never collect.

    Which brings us to the part no one likes to say out loud:

    If we handled this better—basic care, earlier treatment, fewer emergencies—undocumented workers would be an even bigger net positive. Because it would cost us less to have them here than it currently does.

    Same people.

    Same work.

    Lower cost.

    Liberals don’t support safety nets because they love freeloaders—any more than we put guardrails on highways because we want to encourage bad driving.

    That’s not ideology.

    That’s basic cost control for a society that intends to survive.

  • People sometimes ask if my politics are “far left.”

    People sometimes ask if my politics are “far left.”

    People sometimes ask if my politics are “far left.”

    They’re not.

    I’m center-left by any serious U.S. standard. Boring. Functional. Regulated-capitalism-with-guardrails center-left.

    I believe markets are useful but not moral.

    Capitalism works best when it’s regulated.

    Voting should be easy.

    The law should apply to everyone.

    Healthcare and education should be accessible.

    Public education should be well funded and not ideologically captured.

    Peaceful protest should be protected—even when it’s uncomfortable or disruptive.

    Religion should be protected—but not imposed.

    Pluralism is a strength, not a threat.

    That used to be called mainstream.

    I didn’t move left.

    I stayed put.

    If this now sounds radical, it’s not because these ideas changed.

    It’s because we quietly stopped agreeing on what democracy requires.

    In 1995, this would’ve made me a normal Democrat—or a very reasonable Republican.

    In 2026, it apparently makes me dangerous.

    What changed is the scenery.

    At some point, the party that wrapped itself in the American flag started flirting with foreign strongmen, talking about “illiberal democracy,” and—small detail—waving the Union Jack at rallies while lecturing everyone else about patriotism.

    That’s new.

    So when people call views like mine “radical,” I can’t help but wonder:

    When did believing in elections, rule of law, and regulated capitalism become the extreme position?

    If this is “far left,” the news isn’t where I stand.

    It’s how far the map has shifted.

    That’s where I stand.

  • Remember When All Companies Wanted Was Your Money

    Remember When All Companies Wanted Was Your Money

    That used to be the deal. You paid. They left you alone. Now money isn’t enough.

    Now they want your attention.

    Your opinion.

    Your alignment.

    Your reaction.

    Your data.

    Your public affirmation in the form of a five-star review you didn’t plan to write.

    They want every waking moment that hasn’t been monetized yet.

    And if this feels like a lot, it’s because we’re still early.

    2026 is an election year.

    AI is about to help companies and campaigns find the last quiet corners of your day and label them “missed opportunity.”

    So when does this end?

    No one seems eager to answer that.

    People aren’t exhausted because they lack discipline.

    They’re exhausted because the asking never stops.

    Every app wants engagement.

    Every brand wants personality.

    Every cause wants loyalty.

    Even silence now reads as something to be fixed.

    And the smallest example says it all:

    “Are you enjoying this app?”

    You tap yes.

    Now you’re being asked to rate it, review it, recommend it, and defend your enthusiasm.

    That’s the world we’re living in.

    (Yes, I’m aware this post is also asking for your attention. Welcome to the problem.)

    So for 2026, it’s enough to keep the resolution simple.

    Stay sane.

    Close the pop-up.

    Say no without explanation.

    Protect the parts of your day that don’t need an audience.

    Because in a world that no longer settles for your money and now wants you,

    the most quietly radical act left

    is deciding what doesn’t get access.

  • Spain’s Quiet Flex

    Spain’s Quiet Flex

    Spain isn’t just “doing okay” while the rest of Europe nurses a hangover — it’s Europe’s outlier in a good way. Since early 2024, Spain has been growing at roughly three percent a year while the eurozone plods along near one. Credit markets noticed: S&P bumped the sovereign in mid-September, and within days Moody’s and Fitch followed suit. When all three ratings agencies are suddenly in a good mood about you, it’s usually because the story is real, not vibes. 

    The growth mix isn’t mysterious:

    • People: Spain opened the door while others slammed it. Net immigration has averaged around six hundred thousand a year since 2022, mostly working-age and heavily Latin American — which makes integration faster (language, culture, networks). That’s not a talking point; that’s the math. It’s also a big reason employment has hit records and consumer demand is sturdy.  
    • Power: Cheap, abundant renewables have turned Spain from a sunny tourist postcard into an energy-cost arbitrage play for industry and data-heavy services. In 2024, renewables supplied a record ~56% of electricity, and year-to-date 2025 has pushed higher. That lowers input costs and draws capital. (The grid, yes, needs beefing up after the April outage — and investments are now flowing.)  
    • Policy follow-through: NGEU funds have been deployed into real stuff (infrastructure, modernization), and earlier labor reforms tightened up job stability. Brussels’ baseline: Spain can still clock around 2.6% growth in 2025 — in Europe, that’s sprinting.  

    Now for the adult supervision: per-capita gains lag headline GDP, productivity is still yawning, and unemployment — although falling to around 10% — remains among the eurozone’s highest. The fix isn’t a new slogan; it’s a pipeline: streamline rules, crowd in long-term risk capital, and upskill into higher-value services (IT, finance, engineering). That’s where you turn an immigration-led demand pop into durable per-capita prosperity. 

    How Madrid plays its power in Europe

    Spain’s “soft power” used to be sunshine and tapas. Today it’s growth, grid, and people — a combination that gives Madrid surprising clout in EU tables where sluggish peers need a positive outlier. The message Spain quietly sends in Brussels: we can cut emissions, grow faster than you, and do it without slamming the door on newcomers. That lets Spain lean into:

    • Energy bargaining: With wind/solar scaling and interconnectors improving, Spain can punch above its weight in talks about EU power markets, grids, and decarbonization timelines. The subtext is “we’ve shown this can work — now fund the pipes.”  
    • Fiscal credibility: Upgrades from S&P/Moody’s/Fitch improve borrowing optics just as Europe re-tightens fiscal rules. That buys room to keep investing while others cut.  
    • Migration realism: While some capitals grandstand at the border, Spain’s labor-market-first posture is adding capacity exactly where Europe is short. That makes Madrid the practical voice when migration inevitably returns to the EU agenda.  

    What could blow this up? Politics and housing. Sánchez governs with dental floss; big reforms are a knife fight. And if rents keep outrunning wages and public services stay tight, tolerance for high inflows could fray — fast. The economic story is strong; the social license needs maintenance. 

    The scoreboard (for the macro geeks)

    • 2025 growth: Bank of Spain and the European Commission are in the ~2.6% camp; the government’s latest revision is a hair higher after a better-than-expected Q2. Either way, Spain is still outrunning the bloc.  
    • Labor: Unemployment near 10.3%, lowest since 2008 but still elevated versus EU peers. Youth unemployment remains sticky.  
    • Energy: 56% renewables in 2024, roughly ~59% so far in 2025 — with grid investment pledged after the spring blackout.  

    Catalonia: where things actually stand

    Madrid bet on de-escalation and legal normalization. The Amnesty Law for the 2017 independence cases passed and, crucially, Spain’s Constitutional Court upheld it on June 26, 2025. Application is case-by-case: many have already benefited, while high-profile figures like Puigdemont are still working through the process. Politics, not prisons, now dominates. 

    On public sentiment, support for independence has eased off its highs, bobbing around ~38–40% in 2025 surveys, with the Socialists (PSC) leading regionally and pro-independence parties recalibrating. Translation: the temperature is lower, the question isn’t “UDI tomorrow” but “what’s the next workable status that keeps growth and dignity intact?” 

    Bottom line: Spain’s edge right now is a rare mix — demographic momentum, green electrons, and steady EU cash channeled into the real economy. If the ruling class can keep the coalition intact, scale skills faster than rents, and turn grid upgrades into a 2030 powerhouse, Spain’s “quiet flex” becomes structural. If not, it risks being remembered as a great run of form that never quite converted to per-capita lift. I’m betting the former — but only if they keep treating immigration as an asset and productivity as the main event. 

  • Gen X: We Were Supposed to Be Too Sharp for This Sh*t

    Gen X: We Were Supposed to Be Too Sharp for This Sh*t

    There’s a very specific kind of shame in watching a country fall apart and realizing your generation was supposed to stop it.

    We were the skeptical kids. The “don’t fall for it” crowd. We grew up with irony, sarcasm, and a healthy distrust of institutions. We made fun of cults. We rolled our eyes at televangelists. We knew better.

    At least, we thought we did.

    We were the last analog generation—and the first digital one. We knew how to rewind a cassette and reboot a modem. We brought the internet into being, and with it, the promise of better information, smarter systems, and a more connected world.

    We gave the world Google, Amazon, YouTube.

    We gave it Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, the Wu-Tang Clan.

    We built the platforms. Designed the interfaces.

    We were supposed to be the bridge between what was and what could be.

    But now?

    We’re watching the whole thing buckle—and pretending we’re just observers.

    We post memes about how great it was to grow up drinking from hoses, while an entire generation can’t afford rent, let alone a mortgage.

    We forward videos about “the good old days” while Gen Z drowns in debt, climate fear, and medical bills for anxiety disorders they inherited from watching us lose the plot.

    And who’s in charge now?

    Trump. Again.

    President 2.0.

    This time with fewer guardrails, more power, and even less shame.

    And standing right behind him, RFK Jr.—now Secretary of Health—gutting the CDC, firing career scientists, and rebuilding America’s public health policy around gut feelings and internet comment sections.

    We used to point at the USSR and say, “Those poor people don’t get real news—just government propaganda.”

    Now we’ve got half the country cheering for our own state-run media, rage-bait headlines, and “alternative facts,” while willingly ignoring everything they know is true.

    We’re not living in 1984. We’re living in something dumber.

    A self-inflicted propaganda state where people know it’s bullshit—and eat it up anyway.

    And Gen X?

    We were supposed to be immune to this.

    Too jaded. Too sharp. Too allergic to fascism.

    We were supposed to be the firewall.

    But we ghosted.

    No Gen X president because the boomers.

    No major Gen X political movement.

    No defining generational stand.

    We just kept scrolling.

    Kept reposting.

    Kept telling ourselves we were “above it.”

    But the truth is—we’re blowing it.

    We were there when the rot was setting in.

    And we didn’t stop it.

    We let the dumbest grifter of our lifetime sell America a cheap hat and a fake war on reality.

    We watched as housing became a luxury, healthcare became a subscription plan, and truth became a punchline.

    We let RFK Jr. cosplay as a truth-teller while he dismantled actual science.

    And now, with AI about to automate our jobs, scrape our souls, and deepfake us into oblivion, we’re busy sharing memes about the 80s while billionaires plug themselves into immortality servers.

    We were supposed to be the generation that didn’t fall for bs.

    Instead, we’re managing the collapse like theme park actors refusing to break character while the rollercoaster catches fire.

    And yeah, I’m a bit crispy about all of this.

    Not just at Trump. Not just at RFK Jr.

    But at us.

    We were supposed to be too sharp for this sh*t.

    We were supposed to know better.

    We were supposed to do better.

    And if we don’t wake up—right now—history won’t even remember our failure.

    It’ll be too busy documenting the fallout.

    So come on Gen X. It’s time!

  • Trump Fired the Jobs Report Lady. Because the Jobs Report Was Bad.

    Trump Fired the Jobs Report Lady. Because the Jobs Report Was Bad.

    Well, that didn’t take long.

    The July jobs report came in soft—only seventy-three thousand jobs added—and within hours, Donald Trump did what any authoritarian cosplay enthusiast does when reality offends him: he fired the person who reported it.

    Erika McEntarfer, the now-former Commissioner of the Bureau of Labor Statistics, was escorted out because she made the grave mistake of… doing her job. She didn’t cook the numbers, she didn’t fudge the data, and she didn’t go rogue. She simply released the same kind of carefully collected employment figures the BLS has been publishing, without scandal, for over a hundred years.

    But this time, the report was politically inconvenient. And in Trump World, truth isn’t just optional—it’s punishable.

    Let’s pause for a second to explain what the BLS actually is. It’s not a partisan think tank. It’s not the communications arm of the DNC. It’s a statistical agency, filled with career economists and data nerds who live for things like seasonal adjustments and response rates. The BLS is where accuracy goes to get its shoes dirty.

    And yes, they revise the numbers—they always have. The initial jobs report is based on partial survey responses. As more data trickles in—especially from late-reporting firms and federal agencies—the numbers get updated. This happens every month. It’s not fraud. It’s not bias. It’s just… math. But try explaining “statistical methodology” to a guy who thinks windmills cause cancer.

    Here’s the real danger: this isn’t just about one firing. It’s about trust. The kind of trust that global markets, rating agencies, and foreign debt holders depend on when they decide whether to keep parking trillions in U.S. Treasuries. They’re not doing that out of charity. They’re doing it because they believe U.S. institutions are solid. Apolitical. Professional. Uncorrupted by whoever happens to be yelling on television that day.

    But if we start firing data officials every time a chart slopes the wrong way, we’re not a stable country anymore. We’re a banana republic in a red baseball cap.

    The BLS has survived wars, recessions, financial crises, and even past Republican administrations that knew better than to meddle with the scorekeeper. But now? Now we’re here—treating unemployment figures like fake news and gutting statistical integrity because the numbers don’t flatter the guy in the gold elevator.

    What happens next? Do we rehire her if next month’s numbers are better? Do we demand she “find” more jobs next time? Do we just stop counting altogether and replace the report with vibes?

    This isn’t funny. But I’m laughing anyway, because that’s what you do when the country starts playing Russian roulette with its credibility.

    We don’t have to agree on the right economic policy. But we have to agree that facts are still allowed to exist.

    Because if we lose that, it’s not just the jobs report that gets revised downward. It’s our future.

  • After Late-Stage Capitalism: Where Do We Go From Here?

    After Late-Stage Capitalism: Where Do We Go From Here?

    You don’t need a PhD in economics to feel that something’s off.

    Groceries cost more, jobs feel more fragile, housing looks like a luxury product, and half the tech CEOs sound like they’re pitching a video game plot instead of running real-world companies. Meanwhile, billionaires are racing each other to space while your rent races you into a corner.

    This is what people mean when they talk about late-stage capitalism. It’s not an end date on a calendar. It’s a mood. A vibe. A phase in the life cycle of an economic system that feels increasingly disconnected from reality.

    So What Is Late-Stage Capitalism, Really?

    It’s the point in a system’s evolution where:

    • Markets are no longer free, just engineered
    • Wages stagnate while productivity and profits soar
    • Basic needs become “subscription services”
    • Work is precarious, but shareholders are thrilled
    • Governments serve markets instead of citizens
    • Every crisis gets monetized—healthcare, climate, war, education

    It’s Uber drivers with master’s degrees. Teachers driving DoorDash. People crowdfunding insulin while the stock market hits record highs. It’s burnout, hustle, and “grindset” culture masquerading as freedom. It’s a society that treats rest like laziness and wealth like morality.

    In short: it’s the moment when the system stops pretending it’s for everyone.

    So What Comes Next?

    That’s the question. And we’re all going to have to answer it—whether we want to or not. Because systems don’t last forever. They evolve. They collapse. They mutate. Or, sometimes, they’re dragged kicking and screaming into something new.

    Here are five directions we might be headed:

    1. State Capitalism

    Same market, new driver.

    In this version, governments take a more active role—not to help you, but to strategically control markets. Think China’s model: heavy surveillance, controlled growth, and national champions in tech and energy. Markets are tools, not ideals.

    Upside: Infrastructure might actually get built.
    Downside: Dissent gets a lot more expensive.

    2. Technocratic Feudalism

    You’ll own nothing—and still pay monthly fees.

    Imagine a future where democracy erodes, but Amazon has great customer service. Where mega-corporations are the de facto governments, and your social credit score determines what you can access.

    Think: smart homes, dumb laws, and “Terms of Service” that rule your life.

    Upside: Efficiency. Innovation. Personalized everything.
    Downside: No exit button. No real power.

    3. Eco-Social Capitalism

    Capitalism with a conscience—and a carbon cap.

    This is the idealists’ version: a restructured economy that prioritizes sustainability, equity, and long-term thinking. Maybe we get universal basic income. Maybe we regulate tech. Maybe we stop treating the planet like an ATM.

    Upside: Human dignity. Ecological survival.
    Downside: Short-term disruption. Lots of angry billionaires.

    4. Decentralized Utopia

    Crypto, co-ops, and code-based governance.

    This one’s for the web3 dreamers. Power moves from central institutions to decentralized networks. DAOs replace corporations. You vote with tokens, earn through participation, and store your wealth outside the banks.

    Upside: Radical autonomy and transparency.
    Downside: Scams, fragmentation, and the occasional rug pull.

    5. Collapse or Authoritarianism

    When the lights flicker and the flags get darker.

    Not the feel-good option, but one we can’t ignore. If inequality keeps widening, climate shocks intensify, and trust erodes further, we could see the rise of hard borders, strongmen, and failing institutions.

    Upside: None.
    Downside: All of them.

    What Do You Want to Come Next?

    This isn’t just an academic exercise. What comes after late-stage capitalism depends on us. On the stories we tell, the systems we build, and the power we choose to either accept or reject.

    You don’t have to be a policy wonk to start imagining alternatives. You just have to look at the world around you and ask: Is this working? And if it’s not, what would?

    Because the next chapter is being written right now—by corporations, by governments, by you, and by me. And the question isn’t just what comes next.

    It’s who gets to decide.

  • No One Believes Trump Anymore—And the World’s Acting Like It

    No One Believes Trump Anymore—And the World’s Acting Like It

    Last night, Israel struck deep into Iran—over the quiet objections of the White House. Think about that for a second.

    It was a direct rejection of Donald Trump’s promise to negotiate a new peace framework with Iran. Netanyahu didn’t just doubt Trump’s ability to get it done—he didn’t even think it was worth pretending anymore. He moved without permission, and without Trump.

    This is what it looks like when the world stops believing the U.S. president has any real pull.

    Europe’s Not Waiting Either

    Across the Atlantic, European leaders have authorized Ukraine to use Western-supplied weapons inside Russian territory. That’s a massive policy shift—one that would normally require careful alignment with Washington.

    But there’s no alignment. Because there’s no trust. Trump said he alone could end the war in Ukraine. NATO waited a while for that offer to play out and decided they’d rather take their chances without him.

    Putin Is Publicly Mocking Him—and He Doesn’t Even Notice

    Russian state television aired nude photos of Melania Trump as part of a grotesque propaganda stunt. A few years ago, that would’ve triggered diplomatic retaliation. Under Trump 2.0? Crickets.

    Either he doesn’t realize he’s being mocked, or he doesn’t care. Maybe he still thinks Putin respects him. Maybe he’s just afraid to break up with his last remaining bromance. Whatever the case, the message from Moscow couldn’t be clearer: we don’t respect you.

    Markets Are Screaming It, Too

    Gold is on a rocket ride—not because the economy is overheating, but because confidence in Trump’s economic leadership is melting like a popsicle in Mar-a-Lago. His trade policies shift by the hour. His tariffs are threats without timelines. His “art of the deal” these days seems to be: promise big, deliver nothing, move on.

    He said he’d sign 90 trade deals in 90 days. We’re on day 70-something. So far, we’ve got two vague “frameworks.” That’s political lingo for: everyone smiled politely and agreed to get back to each other. Someday.

    DOGE Was Supposed to Be the Fix—It’s a Punchline Now

    The Department of Government Efficiency was Trump’s shiny new hammer to smash waste and fraud. Musk was going to run it. Budgets were going to shrink. Swamps were going to drain.

    Instead, the whole thing is collapsing under its own irony. Cuts that were supposed to save money are actually costing money. Programs got slashed only to be reinstated under lawsuits or emergency exceptions. And Musk? He’s out. He quit DOGE, slammed the spending bill, and said he’s done being a political shield for broken promises.

    The Musk Breakup Says It All

    Trump once claimed Elon Musk would be a key partner in reshaping government. Now he’s threatening to revoke Tesla and SpaceX contracts, and Musk is saying—on record—that Trump can’t be trusted to manage a budget, let alone a country.

    It’s one thing to lose your enemies. But when you start losing your allies, your enablers, and your billionaire yes-men? That’s when the walls start closing in.

    The Big Picture: Nobody Thinks He Can Do the Job

    Israel ignored him. Europe bypassed him. Putin humiliates him. Musk walked. Gold’s spiking. Trade deals are MIA. And the big-budget reforms that were supposed to show “Trump means business” have turned into another bloated mess.

    This isn’t strength. This isn’t strategy. This is what weak leadership looks like on a global stage. It’s not that the world is in chaos despite Trump—it’s that the world no longer sees him as someone worth coordinating with at all.

    He promised to bring peace, prosperity, and power back to America. What we’ve got instead is confusion, rejection, and gold at $3,400.