Jumping the “v.”

From United States v. Trump to bunker-buster déjà vu, climate legal pretzels, and a polite Olympic mic drop.

Good morning! Let’s start with Iran, because apparently we’re doing brinkmanship again. The Pentagon is quietly warning that a prolonged strike campaign against Iran could deplete air defenses, stretch crews, and invite retaliation across the region. Translation: wars are complicated, missiles run out, and adversaries tend to shoot back. The same president who tore up the Iran nuclear deal in 2018 and later declared Iran’s nuclear program “totally obliterated” is now weighing whether to launch another round of strikes because, somehow, the program he obliterated still exists.

When officials like Steve Witkoff say Iran is “days away” from weapons-grade uranium, Americans are conditioned to flinch. We’ve heard urgency uttered with “smoking guns” and “mushroom clouds” before. The issue isn’t whether Iran has advanced its program; it has. The real matter is whether the timeline reflects intelligence analysis or political compression. Especially when the same president months ago declared the program obliterated.

The military buildup was supposed to coerce Tehran into folding. Instead, it’s boxed Washington into a corner where anything short of visible capitulation looks like weakness. Generals are warning about munitions shortages and escalation. Hardliners are talking regime change. Diplomats are still technically negotiating. It’s a choose-your-own-adventure novel where every ending involves a carrier strike group.

As Zelenskyy reminded us in a separate theater of war, a ceasefire without guarantees isn’t peace; it’s a chance to catch your breath and reload. In a wide-ranging interview, Ukraine’s president described the war as at the “beginning of the end,” but cautioned that Russia is “playing games” with negotiations. He wants binding security guarantees, a concrete EU accession timeline, and pressure on Moscow’s shadow fleet. What he does not want is a decorative pause that allows Russia to regroup and return later with fresh missiles and revised talking points.

“We don’t need a pause. We need the end of the war,” he said.

There’s a theme emerging: escalation without strategy on one front, de-escalation without security on another. Strength, apparently, means very different things depending on the zip code.

Back home, solemnity lasted approximately four minutes. Donald Trump marked “Angel Family Day” with what was billed as a White House ceremony honoring families who lost loved ones to crimes committed by undocumented immigrants. For a few moments, it was exactly that, grieving parents telling stories so raw they bypass politics entirely and go straight to the sternum.

Then it became a rally. Between candle lighting and “Amazing Grace,” we got the greatest hits. The 2020 election was “rigged by millions of votes.” “Twenty-five million” migrants entered “totally unchecked and unvetted.” Foreign nations “emptied their prisons” and “dropped” criminals here. The media, tragically, refuses to celebrate him properly, “If I came up with a cure for cancer, they would say, he should have done it years ago.” He assured attendees this term is actually better than the one he lost because it’s “a much more powerful term than my second term would have been.” Silver linings.

He even drifted into martyr-adjacent territory, musing that “they only go after consequential presidents,” citing Lincoln and Kennedy before adding, in what passes for modesty, “Maybe I want to be a little less consequential.”

Because no event can remain entirely tethered to Earth, there was a live check-in on a guest’s cataract surgery. “You will have 20/20 vision… I hope you have a good doctor.”

In the legal wing of the multiverse, Judge Aileen Cannon reemerged with what can only be described as Volume II: The Sequel Nobody Ordered.

Cannon permanently blocked the release of the classified documents report detailing what prosecutors once described as powerful evidence that Trump hoarded highly sensitive materials in a ballroom and a bathroom like they were party favors from Mar-a-Lago’s national security gift shop.

Her reasoning is elegant in its circularity. Since she previously ruled that special counsel Jack Smith was unlawfully appointed, the report he was required to produce must now be sealed. Also, releasing evidence about alleged obstruction would be unfair to him.

This is where the legal choreography gets Olympic. The case was United States v. Trump. Now that Trump is president again, the United States has effectively joined Team Trump. They’ve jumped the “v.” Cannon can now note that “all parties agree” the report should stay buried. Of course they do. When prosecution and defendant occupy the same locker room, unanimity comes easily.

First Amendment groups seeking to argue that the public has a right to see a taxpayer-funded investigation into presidential misconduct? Denied. Apparently transparency is less compelling than protecting the reputations of defendants whose cases were dismissed before a jury ever saw the evidence.

The investigation happened, evidence exists, and a report was written. But none of it may be seen.

If this reaches the 11th Circuit, it could get reversed, but first it has to navigate the procedural labyrinth designed to keep it sealed indefinitely. For now, the strategy is clear: if you can’t win at trial, control the archive.

On the climate front, there’s an irony so sharp it practically writes itself. The administration’s repeal of the 2009 “endangerment finding,” the legal backbone that allowed the EPA to regulate greenhouse gases, was framed as a victory for fossil fuel interests. Remove federal climate oversight; free the industry.

Except for one small detail. For years, oil companies have argued that state-level climate lawsuits should be dismissed because the Clean Air Act comprehensively regulates greenhouse gases. In legal terms: preemption. The federal government occupies the field, so states must stand down.

Now the federal government is saying greenhouse gases aren’t regulated after all, which raises an awkward question: preempted by what? If Washington steps back, states may gain new room to pursue climate superfund laws, public nuisance claims, and damages for wildfire, flood, and heat costs. You can’t simultaneously argue that federal law blocks state action and that federal law doesn’t apply.

Well, you can try. The Supreme Court has agreed to weigh in soon. Expect legal pretzels.

It turns out deregulation doesn’t eliminate accountability. Sometimes it just relocates it to the communities most impacted. Personally, I’ve been arguing for some time that we should be able to protect our homes to higher standards than federal regulations allow.

In a small but satisfying act of poise, the U.S. Women’s Hockey Team delivered the quietest headline of the week. Fresh off Olympic gold, they declined the president’s invitation to attend the State of the Union. The invite came one day after he told the men’s team, “We’re going to have to bring the women’s team,” joking that if he didn’t he’d probably be impeached.

The women responded with gratitude and professionalism, citing prior academic and professional commitments. Translation: we appreciate it. We’re busy.

While the White House workshopped optics, the gold medalists executed the most devastating move of all: a polite, disciplined “no.” Then they went back to being champions.

Finally, a story that threads directly back to Iran. Internal investigators at Binance, the world’s largest crypto exchange, reportedly found that $1.7 billion in crypto flowed to Iranian-linked entities, including connections to wallets tied to Iran’s Revolutionary Guards. They also flagged over 1,500 accounts accessed from Iran and a vendor account tied to significant flows. The findings were reported internally. Shortly thereafter, several investigators were suspended. Binance disputes any suggestion it knowingly allowed sanctions violations and says it notified authorities.

All of this surfaced as Washington considers military options against Tehran, and as Binance’s founder, who previously pleaded guilty to sanctions violations, enjoys a presidential pardon and renewed political proximity.

If Iran is a national security emergency serious enough to justify carrier groups and bunker-buster rhetoric, then sanctions enforcement should be airtight. Crypto’s borderless rails don’t pair neatly with maximum-pressure campaigns.

You can wage economic warfare, deregulate crypto, and escalate toward Tehran. Doing all three at once without friction? That’s advanced choreography.

As all of this churns, war talk, sealed reports, uranium timelines, constitutional punchlines, it is, at least here on the Southern Oregon Coast, cold enough to make you question your life choices and windy enough to rearrange them.

Marz, of course, remains unimpressed by geopolitics and fully committed to our nightly moonbeam vigils. We stand out there together, bundled up, watching the storm surge, the air sharp and bracing, a small ritual of stillness in a week that feels anything but still.

There’s something grounding about cold air and a steady companion at your side. It pulls the noise back into proportion. The headlines keep shouting, and the wind just blows.

Holding you all in our thoughts. Wherever you are, I hope you’re warm, safe, and maybe sharing a quiet moment with someone, or some four-legged someone who reminds you what steadiness feels like.