“Ignorance or stupidity”? Or both?

Posted on June 13, 2026 by Naomi

As Harper’s Weekly Review indicates, the U.S. president has subsided, as always, into projection when making remarks about that peace with Iran thing. What is he projecting now?

The U.S. president called for all parties to cease their warring and announced that “negotiations on ‘Peace’ are proceeding, subject to ignorance or stupidity getting in its way.”

And…

[T]he U.S. president said that the Israeli prime minister “won’t have any choice” but to agree to the ceasefire terms he was brokering, insisting in a statement that “I call all the shots. He doesn’t.”

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“I didn’t do it, someone else did it, but…”

Posted on June 11, 2026 by Naomi

…I take full responsibility for it.”

I just read the above in an article about a Congressional hearing featuring our current Energy Secretary, but really, it could’ve been any current Cabinet member.

He was asked whether something he’d written on social media was true. It wasn’t. So he said, “No.” And then went on to blame a staff member for the, uh, untruth before he took “full responsibility.”

I know, I know. No point in keeping up with these bizarro creatures and their statements. Still, this blaming someone other than oneself and immediately taking responsibility deserves a mention. It’s sort of deft, in a Trumpled kind of way.

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Updates on pricey automobiles in NYC

Posted on June 10, 2026 by Naomi

Tesla. There are more Teslas driving around. I’ve even seen one yellow cab Tesla, an alarming object.

I still glare at Tesla drivers. I doubt my glare has anything to do with their facial expressions, but Tesla drivers do not look happy. They seem grim, beset. Guilty.

And here’s a possible bright note: I have noticed a small number of parked Teslas missing the insignia. It isn’t anywhere on the car, not on the nose, not on the ass. Nowhere. No mention of Tesla at all on those cars seeking anonymity. Could it be shame? Fear?

Whatever.

Today, I saw a marvelously different sleek black car on Waverly Place, next to Washington Square Park. It was a car I did not recognize. It had a substance to it beyond anything I’ve felt standing near a car, not even a Maserati. It had a cool majesty, a calm demeanor. Seemed to be saying something to me. Whispering, in another language. I leaned toward the unsplashy insignia and…oh boy.

This is a Bentley, a Flying Spur, I believe.

Fuck you, Elon. You are less than nothing.

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