Freedom Medals and Freedom Lies

From collapsing jobs to Putin’s threats, Trump’s Paris sabotage, Musk’s trillion-dollar fantasy, RFK Jr.’s health hoax, and Rudy Giuliani’s medal.

Good morning! America’s economy has just tripped over its own shoelaces, Putin is daring the West to blink, Trump is busy blowing up alliances like a bratty kid with firecrackers, Elon Musk is about to be crowned the world’s first trillionaire for services rendered to his own ego, RFK Jr. is still allergic to facts, and the National Guard is patrolling D.C. like it’s Baghdad. Let’s dive in.

The August jobs report is out, and it reads like an obituary for whatever shred of stability remained in the U.S. labor market. A measly 22,000 jobs were added last month, well below expectations and the weakest performance in years. The unemployment rate ticked up to 4.3%, but don’t worry, Trump has already assured us that the “real numbers” will be released “next year.” Translation: not until after the election, when reality is someone else’s problem. This was also the first report since Trump canned BLS commissioner Erika McEntarfer for the crime of publishing math he didn’t like. His replacement of choice? A Heritage Foundation economist who once suggested we simply stop releasing jobs reports altogether. Nothing says “sound economics” like hiding the numbers until morale improves.

The economy on the ground is coughing up blood. Layoffs jumped nearly 40% last month, retail hiring collapsed to the lowest August on record, and bankruptcies are stacking up like parking tickets on an abandoned car. Trump’s tariffs are choking supply chains, seasonal hiring has dried up, and it now takes job seekers two and a half months on average to find work, a duration not seen since 2017. Even native-born Americans, who Trump claims are “benefiting” from immigration crackdowns, are actually facing the worst unemployment rate in eight years. But hey, just wait for those “real numbers.” They’ll look great on the campaign trail, right next to the repossession notice.

Across the Atlantic, Vladimir Putin has decided to make his own headlines. From Vladivostok, he warned that any Western peacekeeping force sent to Ukraine would be treated as “legitimate targets.” Zelensky, backed by France, Britain, and two dozen countries, insists that Western troops are essential to guarantee that Russia doesn’t simply re-invade after the ink dries on any peace deal. Macron tried to frame it as reassurance, not provocation, but Putin is happy to call any foreign boot on Ukrainian soil a bullseye. It’s the same tired script: portray NATO as the aggressor, brand Ukraine as the puppet, and then act shocked when the West refuses to roll over.

And then came Paris, where Trump turned sabotage into performance art. The “coalition of the willing” meeting was supposed to showcase unity and security guarantees for Ukraine. Trump was scheduled to attend, then downgraded to a virtual appearance, and then simply skipped it altogether. Instead, he dispatched Steve Witkoff, the real estate pal turned envoy with less diplomatic experience than a timeshare salesman, to berate Macron, Zelensky, and European leaders. Within twenty minutes Witkoff was shouting that Europe was funding Putin’s war machine, ignoring the obvious fact that only Hungary and Slovakia still buy Russian oil directly. This, of course, came days after Trump sent Viktor Orbán a handwritten valentine scolding Ukraine for cutting that very pipeline. The hypocrisy was so thick you could pave a runway with it.

Witkoff stormed out, leaving America’s chair empty while Europe carried on without us. Trump then demanded Zelensky and the others dial him in after the fact like delinquent students reporting to the principal. On that call, he accused Europe of buying Russian oil through India, which accounts for less than one percent of Europe’s supply. Facts be damned, the point was sabotage. To underline it, the Trump regime simultaneously announced the cancellation of long-term military assistance programs for Eastern Europe, effectively pulling the rug out from NATO’s front line. Putin couldn’t have scripted it better: the United States, not Russia, tanked the meeting. Macron promised Europe would hold firm, Zelensky kept his dignity, and Ukraine’s drones lit up another Russian refinery for good measure. But let’s not pretend: Trump showed up only to play arsonist.

Back home, corporate America is also living in fantasyland. Tesla just unveiled a new compensation plan for Elon Musk worth up to $1 trillion, yes, trillion, with a “t.” The benchmarks include one million robotaxis, 20 million cars, an $8.5 trillion market cap, and enough robot production to populate a small dystopia. This, from a company that just had its worst quarters in years and can’t get self-driving cars to make a left turn without invoking divine intervention. The Delaware courts already struck down Musk’s last package for being a conflict-of-interest bonanza, but Tesla’s board responded by doubling down with something so bloated it reads like satire. Musk threatened to leave if he didn’t get 25% voting control, and the board basically said, “how high?” If he hits his targets, Musk becomes the world’s first trillionaire. If he doesn’t, he still walks away with more billions than the GDP of some countries. The only thing Tesla seems to be driving these days is investor delusion.

Over in the Senate, Trump’s HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. was busy embarrassing himself in front of both parties. Asked how many Americans died of COVID, Kennedy claimed not to know. Pressed again, he said the numbers were unreliable. This from the man in charge of the country’s health system. Senators ripped him apart for spewing misinformation, but Kennedy beamed like a man convinced he was winning. His tenure has already included axing vaccine contracts, dismantling pandemic preparedness, and replacing science with conspiracy. His appearance was less a hearing than a public service announcement: don’t get sick in Trump’s America, because the guy calling the shots doesn’t believe in the numbers, the medicine, or the very idea of public health.

And finally, to Washington, where the District has sued Trump to stop his deployment of the National Guard as a glorified police force. The Posse Comitatus Act, the 1878 law that bars federal troops from acting as cops, exists precisely to stop this sort of thing. But Trump sent the Guard into D.C. neighborhoods with weapons and authority to conduct searches and seizures, effectively turning the capital into an occupied zone. California courts already ruled his Los Angeles deployment unlawful, but the White House charged ahead anyway. D.C.’s Attorney General Brian Schwalb argues it’s blatantly unconstitutional, and he’s right. The bigger truth is that Trump is rewriting the rules to make the military his personal police force, accountable to him and no one else.

And because this clown show always finds a lower floor, Trump just announced he’s giving Rudy Giuliani the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Yes, the same award bestowed on John Lewis and Rosa Parks is now being pinned on the man who turned Four Seasons Total Landscaping into a historical landmark and admitted under oath that he defamed two Georgia election workers. Rudy is still in contempt of court, still bankrupt, and still oozing hair dye in the public imagination, but in Trump’s world that counts as “patriotism.” If the Medal of Freedom was once a crown jewel of American honor, consider it now a participation trophy in the loyalty cult.

So there you have it: jobs collapsing at home, Putin threatening war abroad, Trump sabotaging allies in Paris, Musk bathing in imaginary trillions, RFK Jr. fumbling the basics of health statistics, the National Guard being used as a Praetorian street patrol, and now Rudy Giuliani, fresh off a contempt citation and a fractured vertebra, is set to receive the nation’s highest civilian honor. If this is the new normal, then “stability” has left the building. America isn’t on the brink of crisis, it’s living in one. On a brighter note, thank you all for the kind wishes about my beautiful new grandson, he’s a reminder that even as the world teeters, there are still new beginnings worth celebrating.