#Commerce Fox

[saywhat-politics]

The Commerce Secretary of the US is telling people to go out and buy stock in a specific company on national television.

[derekpadron]

Certified Public Accountant for Mahers Terminal and MBA Graduate of Nova Southeastern University “Josepha” “Josephina” Josephine “Fifi” “Fify” Viera; her Fat Accountant and Engineer Dudley-Acting son Alex(ander) Viera; her other son Marc(elo) Viera the Florida State University Law Graduate; and her husband and both sons’ Flamingo-Looking Cuban-Texan Engineer from West New York, New Jersey, Marcelo Viera, had a father, grandfather and father-in-law by the name of Angel “Ángel” Hernandez who suffered similar to Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher from Alzheimer’s threatened me by threatening my Medicaid, Foods Stamps and SSI away from me after I attempted Suicide the first time and before I attempted Suicide the second time — strangely satisfied with their Smirks of me having been diagnosed with Thin Type 1 Diabetes and Fat Type 2 Diabetes, with Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis Memory Loss and possibly a future Blindness, Deafness, loss of arms and legs, Kidney failure, and oddly enough Alzheimer’s Disease from both types of Diabetes and High Blood Pressure caused by their friend Psychiatrists’ enforced medications on me (the Vieras stole my Good High School, and College and University Friends after negatively defaming me to them — the Vieras know too many People and Travel Around the World) because, after they verbally assaulted me when I was age 6 and beyond (I’m age 36 in 2023) with their Authoritarian Managerial Bossiness they were trained into doing to me by Nova Southeastern University and Mahers Terminal — I called out Their Fatness (Psychiatric Daily Pills and Monthly Injections cause Fatness and Overeating) with terminology such as “Pig Cow,” “Betsy the Cow,” “Mooo!”, and “Oink Oink!”

[baddawgsports]

🇺🇸 USWNT DOMINANCE: 4-0 BLOWOUT over Ireland! The Stars and Stripes were absolutely unstoppable tonight! What a statement performance ahead of upcoming competitions 🔥⚽ This is the kind of form that wins tournaments! #USWNT #soccer #Ireland #football Full match report ⬇️

[astra-ravana]

Trickster Spirits

Trickster spirits are a fascinating and complex aspect of mythology, folklore, and magick. They are beings that challenge, deceive, teach, and disrupt, often blurring the line between chaos and wisdom. Tricksters can be helpful guides, mischievous troublemakers, or unpredictable forces, depending on how they are approached and the lessons they seek to impart.

What Are Trickster Spirits?

Trickster spirits are supernatural or mythological entities that thrive on bending or breaking societal norms, defying expectations, and revealing hidden truths. They are neither wholly good nor wholly bad; instead, they embody duality, paradox, and transformation.

Tricksters often use humor, riddles, deception, and unpredictability to challenge individuals and force them to think in new ways. They are catalysts for change, pushing people out of their comfort zones—whether they like it or not.

Characteristics:

• Masters of Deception – They manipulate illusions, words, and perception.

• Agents of Chaos & Change – They disrupt order but often lead to growth.

• Boundary Crossers – They exist between realms, roles, and identities.

• Amoral & Unpredictable – They operate outside human moral frameworks.

• Bearers of Hidden Wisdom – They reveal truths in unexpected ways.

• Shape-shifters – They can take different forms, often appearing as animals, humans, or spirits.

Trickster Archetypes in Mythology & Folklore

Norse – Loki: Loki is the quintessential Norse trickster, a shape-shifting god of mischief, deception, and transformation. Though often causing trouble, his actions also lead to necessary change and evolution in the Norse cosmos.

Native American – Coyote & Raven: Coyote is a wily, unpredictable figure who teaches lessons through his foolishness and cleverness alike. Raven, often a creator trickster, is known for stealing the sun and bringing light to the world.

Voodou - Papa Legba: Papa Legba embodies wisdom, wit, and unpredictability. He can test people’s patience, humility, or sincerity, sometimes presenting obstacles to teach important lessons. He challenges assumptions and disrupts rigid structures, forcing individuals to adapt and grow.  Despite his trickster nature, he is generally seen as a benevolent and wise guide, helping those who show him respect.

African & Caribbean – Anansi: Anansi the Spider is a West African trickster who uses his wit and intelligence to outsmart stronger foes. He is both a cunning problem-solver and a mischievous troublemaker.

Greek – Hermes: Hermes, the messenger god, is also a trickster who steals, deceives, and breaks boundaries. He is associated with commerce, travel, and magic, making him a liminal figure between worlds.

Hoodoo – Br’er Rabbit: A figure from African American folklore, Br’er Rabbit is a clever trickster who outwits stronger enemies through cunning rather than strength.

Japanese - Kitsune: A Kitsune is a fox spirit known for its intelligence, shape-shifting abilities, and trickster nature. They can transform into human form, often appearing as beautiful women, monks, or ordinary travelers to deceive or test humans.

Celtic – Puck & The Fae: Puck (or Robin Goodfellow) is a playful trickster spirit of English folklore, often linked to the mischievous fae. The Fae themselves can be unpredictable and trick humans into bargains or illusions.

Islamic - Djinn: In folklore and legends, some djinn exhibit trickster-like qualities—granting wishes in ways that lead to unintended consequences or misleading people for their own amusement. This is why, in many stories, dealing with djinn requires caution, wisdom, and often specific rituals to avoid being deceived.

European - Reynard the Fox: Reynard is a classic trickster figure from European medieval folklore, particularly in French, Dutch, and German literature. He is a cunning and deceitful fox who outsmarts stronger and more powerful animals.

How They Interact with Witches

Trickster spirits can be guides, disruptors, and initiators in witchcraft. They challenge practitioners to question their assumptions, test their limits, and grow spiritually.

Common Ways They Manifest:

• In dreams, riddles, or visions.

• Through strange synchronicities or repeated symbols.

• By causing small mishaps that lead to deeper insights.

• Through divination (giving confusing or paradoxical answers).

Why Work with Trickster Spirits?

• To break through spiritual stagnation.

• To enhance cunning, creativity, and adaptability.

• To learn lessons in a non-traditional or unexpected way.

• To embrace the chaos and flow of life.

The Risks

• Unpredictability – They do not follow straightforward rules.

• Testing & Challenges – They might deceive you to force you to think deeper.

• Mischief & Pranks – They may cause minor disruptions to keep you on your toes.

• Moral Ambiguity – They do not adhere to human ethical frameworks.

How to Work with Trickster Spirits

Establish Boundaries - Tricksters love loopholes. When calling upon them, be clear about what you will and will not accept. Example:

"I invite only lessons that lead to wisdom, not harm."

Offerings & Gifts - Trickster spirits enjoy playful, unexpected, or symbolic offerings, such as:

• Coins (especially flipped or stolen ones).

• Jokes, riddles, or humorous poetry.

• Mirrors or objects that distort perception.

• Dice, playing cards, or trick objects.

Divination & Communication - Tricksters often communicate through:

• Tarot (especially The Fool, The Magician, and The Tower cards).

• Pendulum divination (sometimes answering playfully or misleadingly).

• Scrying, but with shifting or hidden images.

Ending a Relationship with a Trickster Spirit - If their presence becomes overwhelming, politely but firmly ask them to leave. A ritual to cut energetic ties with a trickster might involve:

• Burying their offering in the earth.

• Burning a symbolic item (like a playing card).

• Speaking a clear farewell intention:

“The game is done, the lesson learned, go now in peace, your presence turned.”

Trickster Spirits in Everyday Life

Trickster energy can manifest without summoning a specific spirit. Some signs of trickster influence:

• Objects disappearing and reappearing in odd places.

• Unexplained tech glitches at significant moments.

• Recurring jokes, puns, or trickster animals (foxes, crows, spiders).

• A sudden, unexpected twist of fate—sometimes lucky, sometimes challenging.

Example: Missing the bus only to run into an old friend you wouldn’t have met otherwise. Tricksters disrupt the expected to create new possibilities.

Tricksters are powerful, unpredictable, and wise in unconventional ways. Whether they come into your life as guides, tests, or mischief-makers, they always leave behind lessons in adaptability, resilience, and transformation.

[mariacallous]

Earlier this month, JD Vance claimed on Fox News that 40 percent of people calling the Social Security hotline are “actually committing fraud.”

This is a completely discredited lie, and it’s impossible to believe that Vance doesn’t know better. In fact, he admitted not so long ago that he likes “to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention.” In other words, he thinks false propaganda is a good way to advance his reactionary agenda.

More, Vance’s Social Security balderdash is a lie with a long history. The right has for close to 150 years used charges of fraud and corruption to target social programs and disfavored groups.

These lies are effective because they leverage anti-government sentiment and prejudice. They also work because opposition politicians struggle to recognize and call out fascist bad faith.

If Democrats are going to defend Social Security, the social safety net, and even cancer research, though, we need to get accustomed to saying unequivocally that lies are lies, and comfortable recognizing them as a deliberate effort to confuse and demoralize people.

The MAGA war on “fraud”

Vance is hardly alone in his fraudulent attacks on “fraud” in the Social Security program.

Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick, for example, made the outrageous claim recently that anyone who called Social Security to complain about a failure to receive a check should be suspected to be a “fraudster.” Trump’s billionaire Nazi-saluting co-president Elon Musk called Social Security a “Ponzi scheme”. Trump himself has said that millions of dead people are receiving Social Security. This is, again, a lie.

In order to combat this fake fraud, Trump and Musk propose increasing administrative burdens. For example, the Trump administration was planning to make massive cuts to Social Security phone service. Reporting on the scheme and subsequent protest led Trump to abandon these plans.

But as Pamela Herd and Don Moynihan explain, there are many other ways that the administration can and is planning to make Social Security less effective and less accessible. Staffing cuts have already caused chaos and website crashes.

“Other proposed policies, such as requiring work-authorized non-citizens to visit field offices will further overwhelm the system,” Herd and Moynihan write.

Nor is Social Security the only program or agency that the administration has singled out in this way. Musk, through his so-called Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), targeted the vital foreign aid program USAID for destruction by falsely claiming, with no evidence, that officials at the agency were stealing funds. The elimination of USAID is expected to lead to 2 to 3 million entirely preventable excess deaths every year.

White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt provided an unintentionally frank explanation of how Trump and his hench-thugs use lies for their own ends. When asked by a reporter to provide examples of fraud, Leavitt pointed to, among other things, a diversity, equity, and inclusion program at US Citizenship and Immigration Services and a program to fight climate change in Sri Lanka.

“I would argue that all of these things are fraudulent,” she said. “They are wasteful and they are an abuse of the American taxpayers dollar.”

Leavitt made no effort to argue that anyone had stolen money from the programs; she did not argue that any crime had been committed. She simply said that she (and the president) thought the programs, which Congress had funded, were unworthy.

In short, “waste, fraud, and abuse” for the Trump administration simply means, “money is going to programs and people we don’t like.”

Fascism and corruption

This misleading, mendacious definition of “fraud” as “money for things we don’t like” didn’t originate with MAGA.

In his 2018 book How Fascism Works, philosopher Jason Stanley noted that “publicizing false charges of corruption while engaging in corrupt practices is typical of fascist politics, and anticorruption campaigns are frequently at the heart of fascist political movements.”

Stanley continues:

Corruption, to the fascist politician, is really about the corruption of purity rather than of law. Officially, the fascist politician’s denunciations of corruption sound like a denunciation of political corruption. But such talk is intended to evoke corruption in the sense of the usurpation of traditional order.

In other words, when Trump and Musk say that USAID is “corrupt” what they mean is that it is a violation of racial hierarchy to spend money to save the lives of millions of non-white poor people. When they say that Social Security is “wasteful,” what they mean is that it is wrong to spend money to protect the elderly poor.

Stanley notes that false charges of corruption were at the core of Southern ideological attacks on Reconstruction. Former Confederates and white supremacists lied that the interracial Reconstruction state governments established after the Civil War were riddled with graft and theft, proving that Black people were unfit to hold office.

Historian and civil rights leader W.E.B. Du Bois explained in his pioneering work Black Reconstruction that “the center of the corruption charge … was in fact that poor men were ruling and taxing rich men.” He added:

The south, finally, with almost complete unity, named the negro as the main cause of southern corruption. They said, and reiterated this charge, until it became history: that the cause of dishonesty during reconstruction was the fact that 4,000,000 disfranchised black laborers, after 250 years of exploitation, had been given a legal right to have some voice in their own government, in the kinds of goods they would make and the sort of work they would do, and in the distribution of the wealth which they created.

The myths of Reconstruction corruption were thoroughly debunked, but they never really died. They reappeared again in the ‘70s and ‘80s, when President Ronald Reagan (and then-Sen. Joe Biden) claimed that “welfare queens” — that is, Black single mothers — were defrauding the system by deliberately having children to increase welfare payments.

These claims were lies — there was no widespread welfare fraud. But they were an effective propaganda tool, and eventually resulted in Bill Clinton’s welfare “reform” that significantly damaged the safety net.

Racist corruption charges surfaced again in the Obama era. They fueled the birther lie that Obama had not been born in the US and was therefore an illegitimate president. Trump of course embraced this racist conspiracy theory enthusiastically and spent years suggesting Obama did not have a valid US birth certificate.

Calling out the lies

Looking at this history, and at the rank corruption of Trump in office, it’s very clear how much projection there is in the MAGA charges of waste, fraud, and abuse.

Yet Democrats have struggled to reject the administration’s lies forcefully and consistently. For example, when DOGE was first proposed before Trump’s inauguration, Bernie Sanders claimed “Elon Musk is right” about waste and corruption, then suggested Musk should target the Pentagon for budget cuts. (Musk was never going to target the Pentagon for budget cuts.) Florida Rep. Jared Moskowitz and other House Democrats also initially expressed interest in working with DOGE to cut spending and fraud.

But as the full extent of the DOGE assault on the social safety net, the Constitution, and on Congress’s spending authority became clear, Democrats backed off their Musk-curious approach. Sanders has attacked Musk ferociously. Moskowitz has been engaged in a good bit of backpedaling.

It’s good that Democrats eventually recognized DOGE for what it is. But swallowing the bait was unwise. It gave Musk unnecessary legitimacy and credibility.

Democrats don’t need to pretend that Trumpworld’s purported concern with corruption is in good faith; they don’t need to waffle and mutter about how of course they are opposed to government waste. The record of the right, in the US and abroad, is clear. Fascists are corrupt liars, and they lie about corruption in order to crush their enemies and subjugate marginalized people.

Musk is not at war with corruption; he’s at war with equality and liberty. And he sees equality and liberty as corrupt because they undermine the pure, untrammeled, rule of billionaires, fascists, and kings.

[nando161mando]

Trump's Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick in a Fox News interview: ".. Elon was gonna cut a trillion dollars of waste, fraud & abuse .. We have almost 4 trillion dollars of entitlements, and no one's ever looked at it before. You know Social Security is wrong, you know Medicaid & Medicare are wrong"

https://newrepublic.com/post/191740/trump-lutnick-cut-social-security-medicaid-medicare

[unhealthyfanobsession]

I've been seeing this trend going around so is there any acotar propaganda that you're not falling for?

Literally all of it lol?

I mean I could write an essay starting with the fact that none of these characters are perfect and some people really need to chill tf out - I’m including my faves and stans of my faves in that btw.

I think the biggest thing I’m not falling for is that the Night Court has a functioning government, military, or system of trade and commerce. It just … doesn’t work? Like none of it makes sense or works. How can you be closed off to every other court but also internally fractured and also your capital is a whole ass secret. The whole court is, ostensibly, being run by 5-8 people who are frankly too distracted fucking each other and having emotional therapy sessions in their 7 houses. So glad we have a general and spymaster and emissaries to a place with a big fucking wall and also a steward of that other place that is kind of our court but what about like … a treasury minister? An agriculture minister? A trade minister? For someone who ripped off so much of GOT, SJM really called it quits on the making Night functional part. Which is only made more annoying by the fact that the other courts in their limited descriptions actually DO seem to have industry and trade and make sense.

Sorry I know you probably wanted me to say I’m not buying that Azriel is a hot daddy dom and he’s actually a silent little weirdo whose main personality trait thus far is torture and being hot and a 2000’s emo haircut but this is actually what keeps me up at night.

forget the ship wars, I’m focused on the sustainability of this country’s economic system and it is NOT looking good frankly.

Oh also/PS - it’s absolutely insane that Lucien gets made into a villain for thinking Rhys took Feyre and was holding her against her will when you consider everything he saw from UTM and beyond like if I was him I would have to assume that bye bye note was fake as fuck considering as far as he knows the girl can’t even read which almost got him killed btw. Like Lucien is sat there thinking he’s about to save Feyre and everyone is losing it that he’s not respecting her choices that fox CANNOT WIN!

Ok I’m done lol

[triscribeaucollection]

Daughter

(/SLAMS a new Time Traveler General Leia fic on the table for Whumptober)

My second cousin, once removed.

That was how Padmé introduced her, to fellow Senators, to Jedi and clone troopers, even to Palpatine himself, mere hours before his dramatic death. In the chaos that followed, very few eyes gave the matronly woman at Padmé’s side so much as a second glance.

Their mistake.

“We’ve received word from Onderon,” Sabé called out, on the other side of the sitting room. “Steela Gerrera and Lux Bonteri confirmed their attendance at the peace talks.”

Padmé hummed, flicking through her list of accepted invitations, refusals, and undecided systems who could potentially be swayed one way or the other. With the losses of Grievous, Dooku, and now the puppetmaster Sidious, the Confederacy had fairly quickly fallen apart; the Banking Clan, Commerce Guild, Techno Union and others only able to hold off from profit-driven in-fighting for so long. With the facade of their ‘dedication’ to the cause collapsing in upon itself, more and more Separatist worlds were deciding they would, perhaps, like to come back to a Republic eagerly tearing itself free of corruptive influence.

Nearly two hundred Senators and lesser politicians had already been ousted from their positions on charges of accepting bribes, engaging in fraud, and colluding to grant more extravagant emergency powers to the Chancellor.

Padmé, her handmaidens, and their unexpected savior remained hard at work to ensure the continued momentum of their successes.

At least until a chirp upon her comlink indicated the arrival of a guest.

“No need,” Padmé told the others as she stood, halting a shuffle to hide incriminating datapads out of sight beneath blankets and within bags of personal hygiene items. “It’s only Bail and Fox.”

Sabé, Dormé and the rest relaxed, returning to their tasks. Only the oldest woman in the room remained tense, sharp gaze following Padmé while she hurried to the main door.

As one of the strongest candidates for Chancellor, Bail needed to remain under armed protection at all times. Fortunately, dressing inconspicuously and being accompanied by an aggrieved Commander Fox counted - at least as far as Bail himself was concerned. Fox, on the other hand, began grumbling under his breath the moment they cleared Padmé’s external security and entered the apartment foyer. “Can’t wait until morning, or a proper escort, no, he needs to come visit now in an unarmored speeder-”

“I’m afraid I’ll need to donate quite a few cartons of pastries to the Guard offices tomorrow,” Bail murmured, smiling even as he slipped off his dark cloak. “And possibly a new caf machine.”

“Three caf machines,” Fox huffed. “The shinies keep trying to experiment every time you send another one.” He rolled his eyes quite dramatically, after pulling off his helmet.

A year before, opening up and airing his annoyance so clearly in front of non-clones would have been unthinkable for the commander. It delighted Padmé each and every time she was allowed to bear witness to the easing of that wall, as well as its latest, near total collapse; the removal of whatever influence Sidious was exuding over the Coruscant Guard seemed to have done wonders for lifting a weight off Fox’s shoulders, and his inhibitions at the same time.

Which wasn’t to say the man didn’t still perform his job admirably. A hint of sound drew his eyes instantly towards the doorway to the living room, fingers twitching towards holsters before they went still.

“Leia,” Padmé said, even before turning around. “May I present Guard Commander Fox? And Bail you know, of course.”

“Of course,” the woman replied, voice dry, one brow raised ever so slightly. “Commander. Senator.”

Fox let out a soft grunt, flicking his gaze back and forth between the two women. “...resemblance is definitely stronger, when you two aren’t in uniform.”

‘Dressed up’, others might say, but Padmé felt the word uniform had the right of it, when she needed to step into the role of Naboo’s representative and carry the expected image thereof. Leia, for her part, had spent most of the past several days in a much less eye-catching series of dark grey and blue outfits: just elaborate enough to pass muster as Padmé’s relation and assistant, with plenty of concealed pockets for weaponry, but otherwise quite plain. With their hair hanging loose and both in practical sleepwear, however, Fox certainly had the right of it.

They looked like mother and daughter.

Only, in reverse of the actual family tree.

“I realize this may be futile, considering whom I’m asking,” Padmé murmured, looking at the woman who would have been her child in another life. “But would you two consider helping me convince her to take a break before she burns out?” Despite her gentle tone, the words caused annoyance to flicker across Leia’s face, and something in how she tipped her chin- adjusted her stance- reminded Padmé viscerally of Anakin.

From battlefield to Separatist space to Coruscant, Leia had maintained a whirlwind of activity, removing major players from the board and only briefing pausing to actually introduce herself to others. In the week since Padmé met her, she didn’t think Leia had taken more than four or five hours rest each night, too focused on assassinating Palpatine and setting the rest of their political purge in motion. Even since successfully killing the Sith, she’d remained intent on continuing to work, to restore the Republic before it could finish falling apart.

Fox, who substituted spite for sleep and drank at least six cups of caf per day, only snorted.

Bail proved more useful.

The tall man stepped forward, reaching, and like a planet drawn to its sun, Leia came closer as well to grasp his hands. “However the election results turn out, I will be returning to Alderaan for a few days afterward. Would you consider accompanying me?”

Leia froze. It took a long moment for her jaw to flex, for the question to creep out, “Are you- certain?”

“I’ve already sent a coded message to inform Breha about you,” Bail answered, equally quiet. “She’d like to speak in person, whenever you have time for a call.”

Motion rippled through the woman, too large for a tremble, too subdued for a shudder. Her eyes darted towards Padmé, who smiled. “The console in my chamber is triple-encrypted. No one will interrupt you.”

Several more seconds passed, before Leia jerked her head in a nod. She held herself so rigidly, so constantly, a general poised over her battlefield holotable, never ceasing in her planning and commands and constant self-control. For an instant, though- for an instant, holding onto Bail’s open hands and sagging ever so slightly, Padmé saw instead a girl who’d lost too much, too fast, and desperately hoped to get even some small measure of it back.

When the two Organa senators went to place their call, Fox let out a deep breath and sagged in place himself. “Alright. Maybe that was worth coming out here in the middle of the night.”

Padmé hid a grin, threading her arm around his and carefully towing the commander along to join her handmaidens. “I wonder, if you stay involved with Bail and Breha, whether or not Leia will agree to come intimidate your shinies out of experimenting with the caf machines?”

“Ha.”

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The New Yorker :: @NewYorker [An advance look at Barry Blitt’s “Left to Their Own Devices,” the cover for next week’s issue.]

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

March 28, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Mar 29, 2025

“Another wipeout walloped Wall Street Friday,” Stan Choe of the Associated Press wrote today. The S&P 500 had one of its worst days in two years, dropping 2%. The Dow Jones Industrial Average fell 715 points, losing 1.7% of its value. The Nasdaq Composite fell 2.7%. On Tuesday, news dropped that the administration’s blanket firings and wildly shifting tariff policies have dropped consumer confidence to a low it has not hit since January 2021. Today’s stock market tumble started after the Commerce Department released data showing that consumer prices are rising faster than economists expected.

AIG chief international economist James Knightley said: “We are moving in the wrong direction and the concern is that tariffs threaten higher prices, which means the inflation prints are going to remain hot.” Business leaders like lower interest rates, which reduce borrowing costs and make it cheaper to finance business initiatives, but with rising inflation, the Federal Reserve will be less likely to cut interest rates.

Makena Kelly of Wired reported today that billionaire Elon Musk’s “Department of Government Efficiency” (DOGE) is planning to move the computer system of the Social Security Administration (SSA) off the old programming language it uses, COBOL, to a new system. In 2017, the SSA estimated that such a migration would take about five years. DOGE is planning for the migration to take just a few months, using artificial intelligence to complete the change.

Experts have expressed concern. Dan Hon, who runs a technology strategy company that helps the government modernize its services, told Kelly: “If you weren’t worried about a whole bunch of people not getting benefits or getting the wrong benefits, or getting the wrong entitlements, or having to wait ages, then sure go ahead.” More than 65 million Americans currently receive Social Security benefits. Today Representative Don Beyer (D-VA) recorded himself calling the SSA and being told by a recording that the wait times were more than two hours and that he should call back. And then the system hung up on him.

Musk told the Fox News Channel today that he plans to step down from DOGE in May, apparently at the end of the 130-day cap for the “special government employee” designation that enables him to avoid financial disclosures. In February, White House staffers suggested Musk would stay despite the limit.

Today the State Department told Congress it is shutting down the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) altogether by July 1. Whatever agency functions the administration approves will move into the State Department. Founded by President John F. Kennedy and enjoying bipartisan support, USAID administers programs for global health, disaster relief, long-term economic development, education, environmental protection, and democracy. It is widely perceived to be a key element of U.S. “soft power.”

USAID was created by Congress, and its funds are appropriated by Congress. Congress and the courts have established that the executive branch—the branch of government overseen by the president—cannot kill an agency Congress has created and cannot withhold appropriations Congress has made. The authors of Project 2025 want to challenge that principle and consolidate government power in the hands of the president. It appears they have chosen USAID as the test case.

As Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. shatters science and health agencies, the nation’s top vaccine regulator, Dr. Peter Marks, submitted his resignation today after being given the choice to resign or be fired. Dan Diamond of the Washington Post noted that Marks has been at the Food and Drug Administration since 2012 and has been at the head of the Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research since 2016.

In his resignation letter, Diamond says, Marks expressed his deep concern over the ongoing measles outbreak in the Southwest—now more than 450 cases—and warned that the outbreak “reminds us of what happens when confidence in well-established science underlying public health and well-being is undermined.” Marks said that although he was willing to work with Kennedy on his plan to review vaccine safety, “it has become clear that truth and transparency are not desired by the Secretary, but rather he wishes subservient confirmation of his misinformation and lies.”

On Tuesday, news broke that Kennedy has tapped anti-vaccine activist David Geier to lead a study looking to link autism to vaccines, although that alleged link has been heavily studied and thoroughly debunked. Infectious disease journalist Helen Branswell notes that Geier does not have a medical degree and was disciplined in Maryland for practicing medicine without a license.

British investigative journalist Brian Deer, who has written about the hoax that vaccines cause autism, told Branswell: “If you want an independent source,… [you] wouldn’t go to somebody with no qualifications and a long track record of impropriety and incompetence.” But, he said, “[i]f you wanted to get in anybody off the street who would come up with the result that Kennedy would like to see, this would be your man.”

Tara Copp of the Associated Press reported today that Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth has done some targeted staffing, too. His younger brother Phil Hegseth is traveling to the Indo-Pacific with the secretary in his role at the Pentagon as a liaison and senior advisor to the Department of Homeland Security. Hegseth also employed his brother when he ran the nonprofit Concerned Veterans for America, where the younger Hegseth’s salary was $108,000 for his media work. Copp notes that a 1967 law “prohibits government officials from hiring, promoting or recommending relatives to any civilian position over which they exercise control.”

Hegseth and his colleagues are still in the hot seat for uploading the military’s attack plans against the Houthis in Yemen to Signal, an unsecure commercially available messaging app. Yesterday, Nancy A. Youssef, Alexander Ward, and Michael R. Gordon of the Wall Street Journal reported that National Security Advisor Mike Waltz identified a Houthi missile expert whose identity Israel had provided from a human source in Yemen, angering Israeli officials.

Americans, especially those with ties to the military, aren’t happy either. Military, the leading news website for service members, veterans, and their families, titled a story about the scandal “‘Different spanks for different ranks’: Hegseth’s Signal scandal would put regular troops in the brig.” Helene Cooper and Eric Schmitt of the New York Times reported that the story had “angered and bewildered” fighter pilots, who say “they can no longer be certain that the Pentagon is focused on their safety when they strap into cockpits.”

At a raucous town hall held today by Republican representative Victoria Spartz (R-IN), the crowd booed Spartz loudly when she said she would not call for the resignations of Waltz, Hegseth, and the rest of the people on the group chat.

All the mayhem created by the administration has created enough backlash that the White House appears concerned about upcoming special elections on April 1. One is for the seat in Florida’s District 6 that Waltz vacated when he became national security advisor. In 2024, Trump won that district by 30 points, and Republicans considered their candidate, state senator Randy Fine, whom Trump has strongly endorsed, to be such a shoo-in that he barely campaigned. His website features pictures of him with Trump but has only bullet points to explain his stand on issues.

Democrat Josh Weil, a middle-school math teacher who has outraised Fine by almost 10 to one, is polling within the margin of error for a victory in a contest where even a 10- to 15-point loss would show a dramatic collapse in Republican support. Weil has tied Fine to Musk’s unpopular DOGE and to the president, as well as to cuts to Social Security and Medicaid.

Trump is now personally campaigning for Fine and for the Republican candidate to fill the seat vacated by former representative Matt Gaetz in Florida District 1. There, Democratic candidate Gay Valimont is running against Republican Jimmy Patronis in a district that elected Trump with about 68% of the vote. Like Fine, Patronis is strongly backed by Trump and wants more cuts to the federal government; Gay is a former state leader for Moms Demand Action and focuses on healthcare and veterans’ services. She has criticized DOGE’s cuts to VA hospitals. Like Weil, she has significantly outraised her opponent.

Republicans are concerned enough about holding the seats that billionaire Elon Musk, who poured more than $291 million into the 2024 election to help Republicans, has begun to contribute to Republicans in Florida. On Tuesday he spent more than $10,000 apiece for texting services for the Florida candidates.

Musk has contributed far more than that—more than $20 million—to the April 1 election for a ten-year seat on the Wisconsin Supreme Court. Trump loyalist Brad Schimel is running against circuit court judge Susan Crawford in a contest that has national significance. Wisconsin is evenly split between the parties, but when Republicans control the legislature and the supreme court, they suppress voting and heavily gerrymander the state in their favor. When liberals hold the majority on the court, they ease election rules and uphold fair maps. Currently, the state gerrymander gives Republicans 75% of the state’s seats in the U.S. House of Representatives although voting in 2024 was virtually dead even. The makeup of the court could well determine the congressional districts of Wisconsin through 2041, through the redistricting that will take place after the 2030 census.

Musk has told voters that if Crawford wins, “then the Democrats will attempt to redraw the districts and cause Wisconsin to lose two Republican seats.” Not only has Musk said he is going to Wisconsin to speak before the election, but also he is handing out checks to voters who sign a petition against “activist judges,” a suggestion that it would not be fair to unskew the Republican gerrymander. Last night, Musk advertised a contest that would award two voters a million dollars each, with the condition that the winners had to have already voted.

This morning, Wisconsin Democrats issued a press release noting that Musk had “committed a blatant felony,” directly violating the Wisconsin law that prohibits offering anyone anything worth more than $1 to get them to “vote or refrain from voting.” Wisconsin Democratic Party chair Ben Wikler said that if Schimel “does not immediately call on Musk to end this criminal activity, we can only assume he is complicit.”

Musk deleted the tweet and then, eliminating the language that said people had to have voted, posted that he would give the checks to spokespeople for his petition. Wisconsin Attorney General Josh Kaul sued to stop Musk “from any further promotion of the million-dollar gifts” and “from making any payments to Wisconsin electors to vote.” “The Wisconsin Department of Justice is committed to ensuring that elections in Wisconsin are safe, secure, free, and fair,” Kaul said in a statement. “We are aware of the offer recently posted by Elon Musk to award a million dollars to two people at an event in Wisconsin this weekend. Based on our understanding of applicable Wisconsin law, we intend to take legal action today to seek a court order to stop this from happening.”

MeidasTouch reposted Musk’s offer to “personally hand over two checks for a million dollars each in appreciation for you taking the time to vote” and noted: “No matter what side of the aisle you are on, you should be appalled that a billionaire thinks he has the right to buy elections like this.” Former chair of the Ohio Democratic Party David Pepper posted: “Have some pride, America. We are so much better than this guy thinks we are.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[saywhat-politics]

Maddow warns of likelihood of Trump admin cooking economic stats to hide poor performance

Rachel Maddow points out a suggestion made by Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick on Fox News that he could change the way economic data is calculated in order to make the shortcomings of the economy under Donald Trump look better. Jared Bernstein former chair of the White House Council of Economic Advisers, joins to discuss the vital necessity of accurate economic data, and his concerns about Trump disbanding the Federal Economic Statistics Advisory Committee and the Bureau of Economic Analysis Advisory Committee, two agencies devoted to assuring the accuracy of economic data.

[derekpadron]

Mom! — Dr Svetlana Lana Schwartz and her Matt Egizi / Ron DeSantis lookalike Fat Man who looks like Dominick Verde — her Secretary at Memorial Healthcare System in Psychiatry — is Already Interrogating me over my Computers, Spying on me, and using Psychological Technology to Analyze my movements and brain activity, even listen in on my Thoughts on what I would say to my Father Rigoberto Bert Padron in my Mind, while this Fat Man Secretary at Memorial who is Family Uncle or Cousin of Matt Egizi and Dominic Verde — two men who Bullied Me into suffering from Type 1 Diabetes for Over 20 Years in Little Ferry, New Jersey — is Planning on having me, a Disabled Person who could go Blind, lose my Arms and Legs, suffer from Kidney Failure, go Deaf, and suffer from Alzheimers due to Diabetes, gunned down in my Apartment while he uses our tax payer dollars through Police and Memorial Healthcare Funding to spy on me, while he and Svetlana Lana Schwartz both agree that they want to have me Go Bankrupt, lose My Life Insurance for you and our Family, lose my Savings, and get Repossessed or Robbed by sending Cops With Guns to either shoot at me in my Home or lock me away in Larkin with no way of keeping my Social Security to pay down my Life Insurance, Rental Robbery Fire Insurance, and other Essential Expenses! THESE FOX NEWS VIEWERS FROM MATT EGIZI TO DOMINICK VERDE could have Easily Made More Friends with Classmates and Neighbors to Vote for Tax Cuts — but Instead, their Anti-Gay Death Threats scared MILLIONS of People from Voting for Tax Cuts! Republican Fascist Fox News and Its Viewers START THE COMMUNIST REVOLUTIONS ALL THE TIME!

[dostoyevsky-official]

The Trump administration may exclude government spending from GDP, obscuring the impact of DOGE cuts Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick said Sunday that government spending could be separated from gross domestic product reports, in response to questions about whether the spending cuts pushed by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency could possibly cause an economic downturn. “You know that governments historically have messed with GDP,” Lutnick said on Fox News Channel’s “Sunday Morning Futures.” “They count government spending as part of GDP. So I’m going to separate those two and make it transparent.” Doing so could potentially complicate or distort a fundamental measure of the U.S. economy’s health. Government spending is traditionally included in the GDP because changes in taxes, spending, deficits and regulations by the government can impact the path of overall growth. GDP reports already include extensive details on government spending, offering a level of transparency for economists.

[cecilysass]

One Hand Tied (6/13)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Tuesday evening

“How long?”

“Another forty-five minutes, ma’am,” the driver says.

Diana thanks him coolly, immediately closing the barrier between the front and back of the limo. Her eyes fall appraisingly to the briefcase beside her. Inside is the stack of plans she should probably review before arriving back at the Delaware house; she always likes to be over prepared for meeting with the old man.

But indulging in a moment of privacy is too tempting. She leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes, taking deep, purposeful cleansing breaths.

Any chance to feel truly at rest, truly unguarded is precious these days. She should take it when it comes. After all, she needs her head straight, doesn’t she? She needs to be able to play her game in top form.

She still harbors some doubts, some inconvenient distractions that tug at her thoughts. Fox, for example. But it’s long been clear to Diana that there is a bigger picture to consider. It’s time to steel her nerves.

She draws in a long, deep inhale, releasing it slowly. Keep things in perspective.

She’s always prided herself on playing the long game.

Diana had been two weeks into Quantico when her investigative training instructor cornered her and tried to simultaneously stick his tongue down her throat and his hands down her pants.

Agent Arnold DeLoach was fiftysomething, married, a decorated tough guy Bureau vet. In that moment, he looked red-faced, sweaty, desperate.

Diana had backed away from him, finger combed her hair, and walked, stone-faced, out of the building. She’d felt absolutely no surprise.

Years before, she’d been a pretty teen girl, the winner of Miss Water Lily ‘75 back in her nowheresville town in Florida. Back then, she knew plenty about the selfishness of red-faced, desperate, sweaty men.

She knew at the end of the day, it didn’t matter who’d been the one pawing at who. It was all about how the story was told. And whether or not the storyteller had command of the audience.

So she never told anyone about handsy Agent DeLoach. Yet somehow, they—the powerful group of men who run her life now— already knew all about him when they approached her that first month at Quantico.

And it wasn’t only DeLoach they knew about. They knew about her family’s souvenir shop on the edge of the Everglades, about her grandfather the preacher, about the details of the Miss Water Lily pageant, about every assistant principal or Collier County Chamber of Commerce member who ever tried to cop a feel.

They were smart enough not to send one of the old men to talk to her. Later, she wondered how they knew to do that—how they had sized her up and determined that she wouldn’t have listened to an old man in a suit. Instead, they sent a maternal British woman in pearls, accompanied by a silent man in a dark trenchcoat carrying an umbrella. A surreal duo, like something from a film. Diana never saw either one of them again after that day.

The woman made Diana tea, smiled and told her highly important people were watching her. That her career looked very interesting, yes, very interesting. She patted Diana’s hand and told her that she shouldn’t have to deal with lecherous bumblers like Arnold DeLoach.

And if Diana was willing to think about working for her organization…? She could see to it that men like DeLoach were stopped for good.

Thinking back now, Diana is embarrassed at how easily she fell for it. Hook, line, sinker. The slightest whiff of power, and oh, how her head turned. What a caricature of a small town girl she had been.

After that first meeting, the old men regaled her with exotic stories that she was solemnly told were classified. About outlandish conspiracies. About nightmarish future invasions. About years-long byzantine schemes to keep the truth from the public.

She loved every single second of it.

She nodded and licked her lips greedily. She cherished each secret like a jewel strung on a necklace. She kept it close with a small satisfied smile.

After all, no one else at Quantico was selected to learn these powerful secrets but her. She was the one who had been picked. Who could have predicted it, back in Florida? That Di Fowley would grow up to be dangerous, holding the world’s fate in her hands?

It was Spender—of course, who else?—who began to crack the illusion for her. He was the one who introduced her to her most important assignment.

He lit a cigarette, smiled his joyless smile, showed her a photo, and asked if she knew the young man in the picture.

“Of course,” she said matter-of-factly. “Fox Mulder. Everyone knows him. They say he’s some kind of genius.”

Befriend him, Spender told her. More than that: make him trust you.

“Use your considerable talents,” the old man said, gesturing to her tits with a sly smile and then sucking his cigarette.

That was when Diana realized that when these men looked at her, they didn’t see a promising career or a strategic mind. They saw some kind of useful tool. A weaponized beauty queen.

She wasn’t really selected after all. Fox Mulder was. Di Fowley was a comely trap used to get to him.

The ultimate humiliation was that Spender could read her so well that he could tell she was offended.

“Come on, Diana,” he said in a coaxing voice. “It’s not going to be a simple assignment. He’s no fool.” He smiled in a fatherly way. “You were chosen because you’re so much like him. Damaged. Eager to prove yourself. Hungry.”

She’d tried to smile fearlessly back, desperate to mask her vulnerability.

“You and Mr. Mulder should have much to talk about,” Spender said significantly. “It will go better, I think, if you are able to capture his mind and heart. If you’re more than a mere physical distraction. He’s an emotional sort of boy. The sort who is eager to love a woman and be loved.”

“Well, it sounds like a very high end whoring job,” she’d sniped before she could stop herself.

"Indeed." Spender had actually smiled. “Not every whore is Quantico trained.”

It was a painful lesson, but she didn’t dwell in her disappointment.

In the end, it was a simple assignment. Fox was easy. At least at first. He was comically easy to seduce, and his trust was quickly won, for all his talk. He was easy on the eyes, easy to fuck. He was easy to have conversations with. Easy to admire.

And he was kind, so kind. Kind to her. He loved her. He believed she was a much better woman than she was. Diana thinks she may have loved him, although she didn’t think so at the time.

The assignment became more difficult over time. Messy. Fox became harder to handle. He became more brooding, more preoccupied with work, with exactly the questions the old men didn’t want him to be asking. His moods turned sour.

Then, one day, she was reassigned and was told to leave him. Truthfully, that hadn’t been easy at all.

For that matter, reentering his life hasn’t gone especially well either.

The old men schemed to bring her back stateside under the impression that he’d hop eagerly and naively back into her bed. But after just a day back in the Hoover building, she could see how deluded they were.

The trouble was that they thought Fox was a man like they were. They couldn’t see what was blatantly obvious.

Fox was conspicuously besotted with his new partner. Of course he was. The old men created this problem. Fox never could separate his work from his personal life, and his new partner—this partner they sent him on a silver platter—was all tangled up in both. He barely even saw Diana when he looked at her now. He and the partner only saw one another.

Diana had to work to convince the old men that Fox couldn’t be seduced. This was an impossible notion for them to wrap their minds around. They had never dreamed of a relationship with a woman like Fox had: someone who was really a partner, someone deserving of loyalty.

They would have gladly fucked Diana, given the opportunity, and most of them had been married for years.

Actually, she did fuck a few of the old men. Including Spender. Sometimes it’s just the most efficient way of getting something she wants, but also, she has to admit: she just likes having a little temporary power over them.

They act like they are calm and ruthless, in charge of the fucking world. But they are all red-faced, sweaty, desperate men underneath. Once you realize that, it’s a matter of carefully taking the upper hand.

Part of her is still wistful about Fox, of course. It felt good when he believed in her. When she was the center of his world, when she controlled his heart. She envies the new partner, and she feels a twinge of resentment—which is probably what gave her ideas about how to use the woman’s feelings to her own advantage.

By now Fox has probably put together that Diana betrayed him, and she probably no longer even has his respect, which stings. He always respected her more than the old men did.

But after El Rico, the old men are conveniently out of the picture. With one important exception. It’s only Spender left now—just Spender and her. If she can deliver Fox, her place is secure in the new hierarchy. Spender can’t do it on his own. He’s not a young man. He’ll need a young and reliable second.

Who one day will be the first.

For that kind of power, for the beauty queen to end up riding on top, Diana doesn’t much care who ends up getting fucked.

She opens her eyes. She’ll never really be able to sleep; there’s too much to think through and plan. Back to work it is.

***

Tuesday evening

Sergey has led Scully to a staircase that looks very much like it might lead to a 1970s basement rec room, replete with a ping pong table and orange couch, but he’s reassured her it is the way to the dungeon.

“The stairs have carpet,” Scully says with distaste, gripping the railing as they descend. “I don’t think medieval dungeon stairs have lime green carpet.”

“I thought you were trying to find your boyfriend,” Sergey calls behind him. He is leading the way. “Are you into historical houses now?”

Scully sighs, just as they reach the bottom and a closed metal door.

“Now be cool,” Sergey warns her. “There are usually guards posted here. So make sure you—”

He’s interrupted by the door forcefully flying open towards him. Sergey takes a fast step back to avoid it slamming into his face.

A skinny man in a gray uniform barrels through, stopping suddenly when he sees Sergey and Scully standing in front of him.

“Sergey,” he exclaims in surprise. “What the fuck are you doing down here?”

“Presssssston.” Sergey extends his fist with a warm smile, and the other man bumps it. “You still on your shift?”

“Yeah, almost done,” Preston says. “Seriously though—” He eyes Scully. “You know you can’t be down here.”

Scully steps forward, smiling widely. “Don’t be mad. He was going to show me … the dungeon,” she says in a hushed, suitably impressed voice. “Is there really a dungeon here, or is Sergey teasing me?” She puts her hand on Sergey’s shoulder playfully, causing him to beam.

Preston’s face erupts into a broad smile, too. “Are you… are you the one who’s here for… for Devon’s party?”

Scully forces herself to laugh the most sultry version of her laugh. “News travels fast,” she says. “Yeah, I’m working tonight.” She gives Preston a flirtatious side-eye, an expression she used to use more often, somewhat rusty now. “Are you going to come see me work?”

“Yeah, sure.” Preston seems to have temporarily lost mastery of his voice. He clears his throat. “But seriously, Sergey, the boss is supposed to arrive tonight.” He gestures with his head towards Scully. “She can’t be anywhere near here.”

“All right, all right,” Sergey says. He turns to Scully. “I guess we should be heading back up to the party then?”

Scully gives him a significant glare, but he just shrugs haplessly.

“Okay,” she says without enthusiasm. She absolutely doesn’t want to go back upstairs. What if Mulder is right behind that door somewhere, just feet away from them? They’re so close.

“Gotta admit, I am excited to see you dance, babe,” Sergey says cheerfully, wagging his eyebrows.

“I’ll bet,” she says through gritted teeth. Sergey is already headed back up the stairs, taking two at a time. She reluctantly trails behind him.

She turns to give one last look behind her towards the door to the dungeon, but Preston is standing directly behind her. He gives her a goofy smile and she returns it half-heartedly.

“I think I’m gonna call my shift a little early,” Preston says with a wink. “I don’t want to miss the show.”

She swivels back to face the stairs and begins to march in resignation. There’s got to be another way, she thinks, moving further from her destination.

***

Scully isn’t sure what she expected from Devon’s birthday party, but whatever it was, it was not the half-hearted scene that greets her as she follows Sergey into the Castle’s break room.

The “break room” is a long, narrow space that was once the house’s formal lounge, but is now an eclectic mix of antiques and pragmatic office supplies, of elegant mid century furniture and discount store metal folding chairs. It’s poorly lit, with mottled mirrored walls.

About a dozen men congregate around a table, sitting or standing, holding red Solo cups. The table offers a half-hearted spread of refreshments: a keg, a grocery store cake, some dip and wilted vegetables, a tray of cold cuts that inspire the word “listeria” to pop into Scully’s mind. There are a few sagging loops of streamers taped up on the mirrored walls and on the aging chandelier.

As the door shuts behind Preston, every head in the room turns to look at who has walked in—first at Sergey, and then, immediately, at Scully.

She’s never been so aware of so many eyes scanning her legs and cleavage at once.

“Heeeey,” Sergey announces jovially to the room, obviously in his element. “Relax everybody. The party is here.”

“Shit,” someone says. “He actually did get a stripper.”

“This is really a stripper?” A thin Latino man in his 30s walks past Scully and addresses Sergey directly.

“He sure did,” Preston chimes in excitedly, standing where he came in behind them. “She’s hot, isn’t she?”

“Well, okay then,” the man says, clapping his hands with enthusiasm. “Tell her to get started.”

Scully lets out a slow breath from her nose, trying to control her annoyance at not being spoken to directly. Undercover mission, she reminds herself. Playing a role.

“All right, Davey. Chill out,” Sergey says with a sweeping gesture that’s a little too hammy for Scully’s tastes. “Let her catch her breath.”

“Hi there, everybody,” Scully says, lifting her face into what she hopes is a friendly smile. “Thanks for having me.”

A man in his fifties rises from his chair, cup in hand, and strolls over to her, his eyes continually glued to her chest. “So, uh, the birthday boy is over there,” he says, gesturing to a round-cheeked man bluntly staring at her across the table. “I know you’re gonna want to give him the extra treatment.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding nervously. “Of course.” She walks over to him around the table, wondering what the right note to strike here was. Surely strippers in these situations had some boundaries. She imagines they might make some professional small talk.

This would be easier to improvise if everyone wasn’t watching every move she made. She realizes she’s walking too quickly— using her no-nonsense professional stride. So she tries to slow her pace, to move with more sway in her hips.

It feels ridiculous, but it certainly commands the attention of the room.

Devon, a chubby young man about Sergey’s age, continues to stare dully at her, seemingly frozen in place. “Happy birthday,” she says to him. “You must be Devon?”

“Yeah,” he says without feeling.

“Well,” she says. Lower your voice, she thinks. She clears her throat and tries for a different, more seductive pitch. “I’m, uh, glad to be here to help you celebrate.”

Hyperaware of the room observing her, she hesitantly places her hand on Devon’s bony shoulder. It feels like an extremely stilted gesture, but Devon reacts. His posture goes very straight and his eyes bulge.

Scully glances around the room. Should she do more? Does she seem too buttoned up? She decides to keep talking. Talking seems better than touching. “Devon, this is quite the, um, party. Is this always how you celebrate your—”

“Hey, you gonna dance or what?” Across the table, the red-faced older man is crossing his arms and grinning. She has the distinct impression he is being rude to her on purpose. Scully wonders how many beers he’s had, and if he is the kind of man who gets off on showing women their place.

Scully turns to face him. “All right,” she says, her face placid and smiling. “Just… hold your horses.”

She feels her palms sweating. Even the idea of playacting at dancing in some titillating way—of actually taking off clothing— makes her feel like screaming.

If she has to actually do this, it could go very badly. Especially if someone like Red-Faced Man wants to be mean, if the alcohol loosens necessary inhibitions.

Of course, Scully reminds herself, if I actually take off my clothes, I’ll have all-too-easy access to my SIG, won’t I? But revealing her weapon brings its own set of problems.

“Where’s the CD player?” Sergey demands, looking back and forth around the room dramatically like he’s in a play. “You don’t have one here? How can she dance?”

Scully understands his thinking and seizes on the idea gratefully. “I can’t dance if there’s no music,” she says matter-of-factly, putting her hands on her hips.

“Oh shit,” Davey says. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“What’s wrong with y’all?” Sergey sighs. “Who has a party without music anyway?”

“She don’t look like she needs music to me.” The older man grins lecherously at her. “Just fucking dance, honey.”

“I’m not doing it without my music,” sniffs Scully.

“She’s a professional, Larry,” Sergey says.

“I’ll go get the CD player from upstairs,” Sergey says.

“I’ll come, too,” Scully adds quickly.

“Nah, you stay here,” Larry says, walking to the keg. “Have a beer and keep us company while you wait. Since you’re such a professional and all.”

“You want some cake?” Davey says, gesturing expansively to the table.

“What’s your name?” Devon asks.

Daggers shoot from Scully’s eyes towards Sergey, who is edging towards the door. He gives her another little helpless “what can you do?” shrug.

“I’ll be back,” he says sheepishly, waving as he slips through the door. “Won’t be long.”

Scully watches him disappear in despair.

Will Sergey be back? She has no idea if she can trust him to realize that her protection is probably his best way of surviving the Smoking Man’s wrath.

Is Sergey trying to give her the slip? Is he leaving her to indefinitely stall in this stuffy room of apparently sexually frustrated security guards?

“We never had a stripper here before,” Davey says, grinning. He hands her a paper plate with an enormous piece of cake on it, standing uncomfortably close. “Have some cake.”

***

Twenty minutes have passed, and Sergey is nowhere to be found. Scully knows the exact time because she has been watching every minute pass on the only clock in the room, a cheap digital alarm clock sitting incongruously on an elegant end table.

Every time its glowing green interface advances a digit, Scully spots it out of the corner of her eye and calculates: Sergey’s been gone five minutes. Thirteen minutes. Seventeen minutes.

She’s managed to hold it together so far, mostly by shoveling forkfuls of Davey’s giant piece of cake in her mouth and asking the men lots of wide-eyed questions so she doesn’t have to do much talking. She nods and smiles and laughs at their jokes, always trying to position herself where she can see the door and the clock, always trying to keep a little distance between her and everyone else.

To her great discomfort, Larry keeps making his way to her side. He’s obviously trying to see down her shirt, which is not only creepy, but makes her worry if there’s any way he can spot her weapon.

She is continually trying to move her chest out of his line of sight.

He also keeps resting his hand on her shoulder. And then on her arm. And then on her waist. If she were here as herself, this kind of casual touching from a stranger would definitely provoke some kind of federal agent self defense response, but she thinks Lana, her undercover stripper character, would be more tolerant. She tenses but tries to endure it.

Twenty minutes and no Sergey.

As she is listening to someone finish a convoluted story about some previous work party, Larry’s hand creeps to her lower back in exactly the spot Mulder’s hand usually sits.

Her stomach clenches. She’s certain Larry has intentions of letting it creep lower, but she brushes it away offhandedly and walks across the room to speak to someone else.

She turns her head and lets her eyes fall on the clock again. Now her heart is pounding in her ears. How much longer can she keep this going? After a while, someone will insist that she perform the service she is ostensibly here to perform, won’t they?

The SIG, she reminds herself, trying to calm her nerves. There’s always the SIG. You aren’t helpless.

At twenty two minutes, the door to the lounge opens. Scully spins around in relief, hoping Sergey will be ready with any excuse to get her out of there.

It’s not Sergey.

It’s some other employee, a young man Scully doesn’t think she has seen yet wearing a Rage Against the Machine tee shirt. He gives her a flirtatious smile from across the room and then heads over enthusiastically to the keg.

Scully nervously watches as the newcomer has a conversation with Larry as he fills up his beer. Is he reporting back a message from Sergey? Is he telling Larry Sergey isn’t coming back?

Larry turns to speak to the room, and Scully’s hands tighten into fists. “Yo, everybody. Kyle says the boss got here,” Larry calls. “Just so you know.”

“Fuck. Should we stop the party?” Davey asks anxiously.

“Nah,” Larry says dismissively. “Boss doesn’t care about a birthday party with a stripper, so long as you’re getting your work done.” He winks at Scully.

Scully smiles back unsteadily, trying to cover her nerves. Maybe that’s where Sergey is. Maybe he found out Spender had arrived and decided to lie low. Maybe he is smart enough to stay out of Spender’s way after all. She could hardly blame him for doing that, although it doesn’t help her now.

Her mind racing, she walks to the table, eager for something to do with her hands. She picks up a carrot stick and examines it. If Spender shows up in this lounge to hang out and eat cake, he’ll see her, and her cover will be blown.

She has to figure out how likely that is before she plans her next move.

She turns to Larry and Davey, putting on her fake empty smile again, and holding the carrot stick to her lips. “Will your boss be joining us? I could show him a good time, too.”

“Noooooo,” Larry says with a slow laugh. “Man, do I wish. But that ain’t the boss’s style.”

“Our boss is a she,” Devon says. “She’s fucking hot, too.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” chuckles another man. “She’ll have your balls in a vice. Boss don’t play.”

Scully manages not to let her smile waver as she feels cold pinpricks racing down her back.

Don’t react. Don’t act any different.

She turns to stare at the door, praying for the sudden reappearance of Sergey. I need to talk to Sergey.

Davey is saying something to her—some anecdote about some other stripper he’d seen in Atlantic City— but Scully can’t keep herself from mentally reviewing every conversation she ever had with Sergey, twirling the carrot stick in her fingers.

“Your boss… he smokes cigarettes?”

“Yeah, all the time. How’d you know?”

“Excuse me,” she interrupts Davey with a smile. “I’m sorry. I think I have to…” She backs away towards the door. “I have to go find … Sergey.”

“Sergey? You heard him. He’s coming back,” Devon protests.

“I know,” she says. She keeps backing up until she is standing in the frame of the doorway.

“He said you should stay here,” Larry says, his face unsmiling.

Much of the room is watching her. She knows she seems strange and suspicious, but she just hopes not enough for them to come after her. “I’ll be back,” she lies. “I just have to … see something.”

***

Scully races down the hall away from the lounge. First she intends to put distance away from her and those men. But as she turns down random hallways, she realizes she doesn’t know where to go next, where in the house to look. She could try to find the dungeon again, but without Sergey, can she even get back in?

Her heart is beating so hard now it feels like it will explode out of her chest.

For a moment she considers pulling the SIG out of her bra, but she decides she doesn’t want to totally blow her cover.

She begins opening random doors she passes—a risky and unwise strategy, since she doesn’t know who or what’s behind them. A storage closet. Another bathroom. A room apparently used as an office.

Pointless, she realizes. Calm down. You’re a federal agent. Stop acting like you’ve lost it.

She momentarily leans with her back against a wall in the hall, placing her hand on her chest to calm her breathing. It’s then, at the end of the hallway, that she spots Sergey coming around the corner.

“Sergey,” she hisses in a loud whisper.

He turns and sees her, pausing momentarily. Then he raises his hand.

“Hey girl,” he whispers back. “Thank god.”

She rushes down the hallway towards him, motored by purpose. “Sergey,” she says, raising her voice, “who is your boss? You said your boss was a man who smoked cigarettes, but the men at the party said—”

“Shh, shh,” he says, gesturing for her to be quiet. “You can’t be so loud. We got no time. We can get to the dungeon to get to your boyfriend. We gotta hurry though.”

“No,” she insists, lowering her voice. “Sergey, you have to tell me right now. Who is your boss?”

“I told you,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “The old guy. Who smokes. We can talk about it later.” He grabs her shoulder and starts pushing her. “The dungeon isn’t being guarded right now. But not for long.”

“Are you telling me everything?” she demands.

“Why the fuck would I lie?” Sergey says. “What’s in this for me?” He makes an exasperated gesture. “You want your boyfriend or not?”

She swallows. It’s a thoroughly unsatisfying answer. But even if she isn’t sure if Sergey can be trusted, she needs to get to Mulder. All of this was to that end. The whole point is to get to Mulder. What choice does she have? “All right,” she whispers. “Fine. Lead the way.”

***

As she follows Sergey down the strange lime-carpeted steps again, Scully reaches into her bra, finding the comforting grip of the SIG and extricating it. When Sergey turns around at the bottom of the steps to see her wielding it, his eyes widen and he flashes her a smile. “You’re so sexy with a gun, baby,” he says.

“I’m glad you think so,” she replies flatly. “You said you could get us in.” She points with the SIG at the door.

“I would never disappoint you.” Sergey pulls on the handle of the heavy metal door, and it opens. He gestures inside. “See?” he says. “What did I tell you? Nobody here.”

Scully nods, wondering uneasily where the guards went and how long they’d be gone. “You first,” she says.

“Of course,” he says, stepping inside.

She follows him into a narrow stone hallway that does, in fact, look like a dungeon in a storybook or movie. It is dim, lit only by a few brass lamps overhead, but she can see metal doors lining both sides of the hall.

“Which one?” she snaps. “Which door?”

“There,” Sergey says, pointing to a door at the end of the hall. “Just calm down.” They move down the hallway. It’s clammy and cold down here, and Scully feels goosebumps spring up on her exposed limbs.

“Do you have the key?” she demands.

“I got you, girl.” Sergey pulls out a ring of keys and beams at her, then fits one in the latch.

As he unlocks the door, Scully’s stomach clenches as the reality of the situation hits her. Is Mulder really going to be behind this door? Will he be injured? What will I say to him? How will I be able to look at him without thinking of his betrayal?

Sergey pushes the door in, and they face an abrupt draft of cold air.

As they take steps inside, they find themselves in a small stone cell even darker than the hallway. Scully blinks to adjust her eyes.

“You made it,” Krycek drawls. He’s lounging on a simple metal cot, grinning.

And also in the room, sitting on a cot restrained and gagged, is Mulder. His eyes look groggy, but they grow round in panic when he sees her and Sergey enter the room.

“Mulder?” Scully whispers.

She takes a step towards him, but Sergey catches her arm. In a fast, skilled movement, he disarms her. Before she can even process what’s happened, he holds the SIG to her head. Scully cries out in frustration, angry with herself for her unforgivable distraction.

“What’s with her clothes?” Krycek asks Sergey, standing up and looking Scully up and down. “Why’s she dressed so slutty?”

“Because I’m a genius. That’s all you need to know,” Sergey tells him.

“I’ll kill you, you little—” Scully hisses.

“Girl, I have a gun to your head,” Sergey says. “Best be careful.”

Mulder makes a frustrated sound from the cot.

Krycek bursts out laughing. “The stripper cover story was real? You’re fucking kidding me. I would never have guessed you had it in you, Dana.”

She freezes, looking between Sergey and Krycek, her stomach starting to fall.

They know each other, she realizes. Very, very well.

“What is this?” she says in a low voice.

“Scully, I am insulted,” Krycek says, producing a set of handcuffs dangling from his hands, “that you believed this kid could beat me up, even tied up in a chair.”

“Come on, Lyosha,” Sergey says, folding his arms and stepping out of the way. “I could beat you up when I was six. I could beat you up with one hand tied behind my back. Which we’d have to do nowadays, to make it even.”

Krycek, locking Scully’s hands behind her back, shoots him an affectionate, mildly annoyed look, one Scully recognizes from relationships in her own life.

“Are you… brothers?” she sputters.

Krycek shoves Scully towards the cot he’d been sitting on, and she lands on her side, facing Mulder. As she sits up, she sees that Mulder’s eyes are on her, soft and horrified. In her mind she can practically hear his panicked apologies.

It’s the last thing she wants to think about. She turns away from him in frustration, and just at that moment. Krycek forces a scarf over her mouth, tying it tightly around the back of her head.

“Did you drive her car here?” Krycek looks over at Sergey, who nods. “We’ll have to do something about that. I want this to be a complete vanishing act.”

“Fowley is here already, you know,” Sergey says. “You got a plan to get out?”

“Oh yeah,” Krycek says. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll be long gone before Spender arrives.” He smiles absently, using a fingertip to wipe away some dark liquid dribbling down his forehead. He looks down to see Scully frowning in consternation. “Oh, don’t worry, Dr. Scully. It isn’t real blood.” He licks it theatrically off his finger and leers at Mulder. “It fooled Fox, though, didn’t it?”

Mulder makes another growling sound, jerking around violently on the cot. Unlike Scully, his feet have also been tied, so he can’t move far. She wonders how long Krycek has had him like this.

Sergey looks him over and laughs. “Your boyfriend’s pretty mad, baby,” he says to Scully. He gives her a sympathetic look. “You must be glad to see him, though?”

She looks quickly down at her feet, unwilling to give any of these men the satisfaction of seeing her expression.

“Enough of this,” Krycek says. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, Seryozha. I want to get on the road.”

“Are you going to leave Fowley a note?” Sergey asks.

“Nah,” Krycek says. He laughs warmly, patting Sergey’s shoulder. “I like to let my actions be my message.”

***

[ritchiepage2001newaccount]

Project2025 #TechBros #CorpMedia #Oligarchs #MegaBanks vs #Union #Occupy #NoDAPL #BLM #SDF #DACA #MeToo #Humanity #FeelTheBern

JinJiyanAzadi #BijiRojava Tesla Recalls Nearly Every Cybertruck as Musk’s Week Just Gets Worse

Tesla Recalls Nearly All Cybertrucks Day After Trump Official Begs People to Buy Stock

[istrumpstillpresident]

yes

(3/20/25)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Torri Lonergan at MMFA:

Right-wing media appear not to be fully aligned with President Donald Trump’s framing of his tariffs. After announcing tariffs on Canada, Mexico, and China, Trump administration officials tried to claim this was the start of a “drug war” rather than a trade war, insisting that Trump imposed the tariffs to combat fentanyl trafficking. However, some right-wing media figures have acknowledged that Trump’s tariffs are a tactic in a trade war that is hurting the economy.

The Trump administration has repeatedly insisted its tariffs are part of a drug war, not a trade war

On March 4, Trump imposed a 25% tariff on imports from Canada and Mexico. The administration said the tariffs were intended to combat “the flow of contraband drugs like fentanyl into the United States.” Trump complained that both countries have “allowed fentanyl to come into our country at levels never seen before, killing hundreds of thousands of our citizens” and said the tariffs will continue until the fentanyl crisis “stops, or is seriously limited.” Trump also imposed a 20% tariff on imports from China using the same rationale. [White House, 2/1/25, 3/3/25; Associated Press, 3/4/25, 3/5/25; Truth Social, 2/27/25; Tax Foundation, 3/7/25]

National Economic Council Director Kevin Hassett told Fox’s Martha MacCallum, “This is not a trade war. It’s a drug war.” Hassett complained that Canada is “not trying hard enough” to prevent fentanyl trafficking and claimed that’s why tariffs were implemented. [Fox News, The Story with Martha MacCallum, 3/4/25]

On Fox, Trump trade adviser Peter Navarro insisted, “It’s a drug war, not a trade war.” Navarro reiterated this point to Politico and CNN and while speaking to reporters outside the White House. [Fox News, America Reports, 2/3/25; Politico, 2/4/25; CNN, The Situation Room, 3/5/25; C-SPAN, 2/3/25]

Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick told Bloomberg, “This is not a trade war. This is a drug war.” Lutnick made the same argument on Fox Business, Fox News, and CNBC, insisting the tariffs are about fentanyl deaths rather than trade policy. [Bloomberg, 3/5/25; Fox Business, Kudlow, 3/4/25; Fox News, America Reports, 3/5/25; CNBC, Squawk Box, 3/4/25]

Fox News helped amplify Trump's “drug war” narrative. The Trump administration’s propagandist allies at Fox News were initially helpful in rebranding the unnecessary trade war against America’s neighbors as a necessary step in a “drug war” against fentanyl while the administration spread misinformation about the crisis. [Media Matters, 3/5/25]

While U.S. officials have claimed this is a “drug war,” both Canadian and Mexican leaders have labeled it a “trade war.” Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau said Canada “will continue to be in a trade war that was launched by the United States for the foreseeable future.” Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum stated, “We don’t want to enter into a trade war.” [Reuters, 3/6/25; The New York Times, 3/4/25]

Fox Business anchor Liz Claman said, “We have a trade war. Let’s just call it what it is.” Claman questioned how long “the people of America will remain patient, especially when they may have checked in on their 401(k)s at the worst points of the session today and really gulped and got worried, especially people who are close to retirement.” [Fox Business, The Claman Countdown, 3/4/25]

Fox anchor John Roberts said, “It could be that there’s a little bit of a trade war brewing between the United States and Canada.” [Fox News, America Reports, 3/4/25]

Newsmax host Rob Schmitt reported, “Trump's commerce secretary says this trade war will likely be over before it really even begins.” Schmitt also noted that “tariffs are freaking out Wall Street.” [Newsmax, Rob Schmitt Tonight, 3/4/25]

One America News’ Pearson Sharp predicted that China is “probably prepared to go higher” on reciprocal tariffs in response to “the trade war.” Sharp also said China “didn’t think this was about fentanyl. They thought this was about the trade deficit, and they thought that maybe these things should be separate issues, and we should work on the trade deficit and not use the fentanyl as — what they said — an excuse to address it.” [One America News, The Matt Gaetz Show, 3/5/25]

Certain right-wing media personalities have admitted that Donald Trump’s so-called “drug war” is really a trade war, especially towards China, Canada, and Mexico.