134 - Macdonald Island Penguins Respond to Trump's Tariffs

NOTE: In case you are reading this in the not too distant future, this is based on a real life true story from 2025, when President Donald Trump threatened world-wide tariffs on all countries in the world, including The Macdonald Islands, which are populated only by penguins. This actually happened (well, the world-wide tariffs actually happened - this story is based on the best information available to us at the time).

Rufus, the head penguin, sat calmly at the top of the ice hill, watching the kid penguins slide down the hill into the water.

It was all laughter and fun.

Stan and Marie were smiling as they made their way up the hill with a bounty of freshly caught fish.

"Dinner!" Marie shouted as the kids gathered themselves and shook the ocean water out of their feathers.

"What's that? "Rufus asked.

Everyone turned to see what he was looking at.

"Ship," Stan answered. 

"Ah, yes," said Rufus, "a ship. It's been a while."

Everyone, including the kids, gathered together at the top of the hill and watched as the ship came closer.

"Here," Marie said to the kids. "Eat." She handed each kid a fish and they ate, smiling, anticipating something new and exciting, as the ship approached.

The ship stopped. Everyone marveled at the U.S. flag waving from the mast. A crane cranked into gear. With a noise that bothered the penguin's ears, the crane slowly lifted a car - a Tesla - from its deck and maneuvered it into the air and out over the ice. It slowly lowered the car onto the ice.

The ship's Captain, 'Cap' Marco, as he was known, appeared on the deck. He motioned to his crew and a ramp extended out from the ship onto the ice, not far from where the penguins sat. Cap Marco walked toward Rufus, recognizing him as the leader. Cap Marco had studied Penguinese. He spoke it fluently. 

"Good afternoon," Cap Marco said in Penguinese.

"Good afternoon," Rufus said. "What is that thing over there?"

"That's a car," Cap Marco replied, smiling broadly. "You drive it. Want to go for a spin?"

"Well, I don't know what 'a spin' is, but...sure," shrugged Rufus. 

Rufus followed Cap Marco down the hill toward the Tesla, and nodded as the Cap offered him the passenger seat.

"This here is the most advanced, smartest EV on the market," the Cap said, as the engine whispered to attention. Cap Marco eased the car forward. He let out the brake, at which point the Tesla slid sideways on the ice, lost all traction, and slid backwards down the ice hill, and into the ocean.

The other penguins gasped in horror. The doors quickly opened and Cap Marco and Rufus were soon bobbing safely in the water, as the car bubbled, burbled, and then sank to the bottom of the ocean.

Fortunately the Captain and Rufus managed a foothold to climb back up onto the ice. Everyone looked at the circle in the water left by the sinking Tesla.

After everyone took a moment to catch their breath, Cap Marco turned to Rufus.

"You penguins, here, are not buying any of our beautiful American products," the Cap said. "You've been ripping us off."

"How so?" Rufus asked innocently.

"Well,...you just are. Like I said, you're not buying any American products."

"What are products?" Rufus asked. "And what is buying?"

"I think you know full well what we're talking about here," Cap Marco said, a tone of sternness creeping into his voice. "Tariffs are set at one hundred percent until further notice."

"What is a tariff?" Rufus asked.

"Look, you can play this dumb game if you want, but we have many beautiful products you can buy. We just want fairness in our trade deals."

"What are trade deals?" Rufus asked.

"We have clothes, cars, computers."

"What are clothes?" asked Rufus?

"The boundaries are set," Cap Marco said firmly. "President Trump is expecting a phone call. If you're smart, you'll pick up the phone and call."

"What is  phone?" Rufus asked.

"My job here is done. I think you know the stakes now." Cap Marco nodded to Rufus, then turned to the rest of the gathered penguins and nodded his head at them. "Good day to you all," he said.

Cap Marco walked back down the ramp and onto the deck of the ship. The ramp pulled back and the ship slowly turned away from the island and sailed away.

"That was weird," Marie said.

"Sure as heck was," said Stan. "And what was with sinking that big metal thing in the ocean?"

"Humans!" Rufus said, shaking his head. "I've heard about them before. Crazy bizarre creatures."

"Anyhoo!" shouted Marie. "Dinner! come on everyone! eat up!"

Peter Wick

April 14, 2025

133 - White House Press Briefing

Karoline Leavitt strode into the White House press briefing room, exuding her usual nervous antagonism. She approached the lectern and faced the sea of reporters. the following is a transcript of the press briefing.

Leavitt: Hello, I would like to start with a simple and absolute truth, that anything BAD that is currently happening is absolutely and unequivocally Joe Biden's fault, and everything good that is happening is only happening because President Trump is the greatest and most handsome leader in the HISTORY of the UNITED STATES! Any questions?

Reporter: Yes, first, with the stock market sliding downward this week, is it fair to say that this is now Donald Trump's economy, and no longer Joe Bidens?

Leavitt: What in insulting and stupid question! How dare you suggest that I don't know what I'm walking about!

Reporter: Um, is that an answer? I don't think you answered my question.

Leavitt: I'm sorry, what was the question?

Reporter: Donald Trump has been President again for almost two months, is it time to stop blaming Joe Biden for how things are going right now?

Leavitt: How dare you!

-Stunned silence fills the room. Awkward discomfort makes everyone shift in their chairs.

Second reporter: A federal judge this morning ruled that the administration is not allowed to fire thousands of employees indiscriminately, and that they must all be returned to their jobs immediately. Do you have a comment?

Leavitt: That's simply not true.

Second reporter: What part isn't true?

Leavitt: Look, allowing you to be in here to cover the President is a privilege. It is a privilege to be allowed onto White House grounds. Please be respectful.

Second reporter: With all due respect, I don't think I'm being disrespectful, when I ask a simple question about who is in charge.

Leavitt: And who is in charge is Donald Trump, and don't you ever forget it.

Second reporter: So, in referring back to my question, if Donald Trump is in charge, should he shoulder any of the blame for this week's sinking economic data?

Leavitt: Don't sit there and smugly say, 'If Donald Trump is in charge.' There is no IF. President Donald Trump is in charge! To sit there as a woke liberal reporter with an agenda, suggesting that Elon Musk is in charge - 

Third reporter: I never suggested anything about Musk.

Leavitt: Look, I've just about had enough of your woke, liberal insults. If you want to go back to your news room and say Karoline Leavitt is a crazy, bi-polar, sexy bitch, I can't stop you. so what if I secretly stashed three dead bodies in my freezer at home, What is that to you? That's none of your business - 

Third reporter: Do you have dead bodies in a freezer at home?

Leavitt: Look, President Trump is doing the best job of anyone in the entire history of planet Earth, and maybe better than anyone in the Milky Way Galaxy - although that bug-leader on Alpha Centauri is pretty awesome. Any suggestion that Trump is not the greatest, handsomest, best-smelling person ever could land you in jail.

Third reporter: Are you suggesting that reporting something non-flattering about the President can land a reporter in jail?

Leavitt: Of course not, and I'm personally offended that you would suggest such a thing.

Third reporter: But you just said it.

Leavitt: No, I didn't. That is simply not true.

Third reporter: But we all just heard you say it.

Leavitt: No, you didn't, and any suggestion otherwise is un-American and false.

Third reporter: But it's on record. there are recordings.

Leavitt: Look, I don't know anything about any recordings. I simply did not say what you are suggesting. Next question.

Fox News Reporter: Is Donald Trump secretly Superman?

Leavitt: Now, there's a good question. We can neither confirm nor deny that Donald Trump is or is not Superman. That's classified.

Fourth reporter: As for the President's trade war, is the administration prepared to acknowledge that raising tariffs on everything results in prices increasing for the average American consumer?

Leavitt: That's Joe Biden's fault.

Fourth reporter: But...President Trump is the one who has raised the tariffs. How is it Joe Biden's fault?

Leavitt: That's it! Press conference cancelled! If you cannot take me at my word, and believe everything I say without attacking me personally, we are done here! In find it insulting and condescending that you all think for yourselves, and refuse to believe my nonsense. Good day!

Peter Wick

March 14, 2025

132 - Tyrell Elon Zuzerzos Buys the Unites States (a prequel story to How To Confuse A.I.)

Note (P.W.): When I opened my 2022 book, How To Confuse AI, with Tyerll Elon Zuzerzos celebrating (ironically, satirically, sarcastically) the 5-year anniversary of buying the United States of America (the book is set in the future - in 2075, so he 'bought' the country in 2070) I considered it a joke, a satire. You can check out some of my other posts and videos if you need insight into WHO Tyrell Elon Zuzerzos is, but I don't think you have to dig TOO deep to figure it out. He's not just one person. He is a combination of a few people, plus the fictional character Tyrell from the movie Blade Runner (he created the 'replicants' - the simulated humans). It feels appropriate, in the zeitgeist of the moment, to revisit this character and the 'joke' idea of 'buying' the USA. If you're reading this in the future, please look back at the month of February, 2025 for a little reference point for the moment we are living in.  In short, I am scared, terrified, that my 'joke' will prove to be too accurate a prediction.

TYRELL ELON ZUZERZOS BUYS THE UNITED STATES

-A prequel story

Tyrell Elon Zuzerzos strode purposefully down the Capitol building hallway. "Senator Cavanaugh!" he said, catching the senator off guard.

"Ah, Tyrell," the senator responded, hiding his annoyance.

"When is the committee considering my offer? We have no time to lose."

"We'll vote this afternoon, 2 o'clock," Senator Cavanaugh replied.

"I want to come."

"Tyrell, it's a closed door meeting."

"I'll be there. I'll bring donuts." Zuzerzos smiled at the senator and patted his cheek condescendingly.

That afternoon at precisely 2pm, Zuzerzos burst through the committee room door, carrying a deluxe box of Krispy Kreme, and smiled broadly at the collection of Senators.

"For your pleasure and enjoyment!" Zuzerzos proclaimed, setting the box of donuts on the table.

"Mr. Zuzerzos," Chairman Voglezang snorted. "This is a closed door meeting. Outsiders are not allowed."

"I'm no longer an outsider, Senator! I'm in charge! Have a donut, compliments of your new owner."

"But - "

"Senators!" Zuzerzos projected warmly, "I am the best friend you'll ever have. I am buying the country! All of its debt! You're welcome! It's the only solution," he continued. "I am the only person who can do this."

"But here in America we vote for these things. It's our job - "

"This is too important for a vote. Gentlemen - and ladies," he offered, as an aside, to the three female senators, "this is too important for your small brains. My brain is the only one equipped to handle such a momentous decision. It's for your best. You have to trust me on this. And when I say you have to trust me, I mean it literally. You have no choice. I'll let you all keep your jobs for now, but that could change. check your emails for middle-of-the-night firings!"

"Mr. Zuzerzos!" 

Senator Baker, from Wisconsin, stood abruptly and stared the trillionaire down. "We are the elected officials of the United States. You will not purchase our country until we have voted on it!"

"Too late," Zuzerzos laughed. "Check the central bank. Wire transfer just went through. Congratulations, employees! The USA is OUT OF DEBT! Now, have a donut. Come on. Let's celebrate. It's for the best. Trust me. No one else knows as much as me. Eat up!"

Zuzerzos clicked his thumb an forefinger, and the door opened, as five overly happy assistants entered, unfurling a banner that read, "SAVING HUMANITY (whether they like or not)."

[Enjoy the free audiobook...]

Peter Wick

February 14, 2025

131 - The Pigeon in The Fountain Bed music video

Warning: if you follow the link at the bottom of this post and watch the video, you are taking your life into your own hands. I will do everything I can to prepare you. You make the decision on your own, you take matters into your own hands. You can't say I didn't warn you.

A year ago I posted here about something from the ancient past (well...MY ancient past, anyway), a little thing titled, The Pigeon in The Fountain bed.

I'll link to last year's post shortly, but assuming many of you don't want to go back and read a  year-old post, I'll give you the basics.

There was a band called Mr. Epp and The Calculations. We were teenagers at the time. The band started out as a joke, since most of us could not play any instruments. Then, slowly, this crazy idea began to grow. the joke somehow turned into something real. The band - which split up in 1984 - became part of the family tree of Seattle music history, a seed that grew into the tree called 'Grunge.' When Nirvana and Pearl Jam, along with many other 'grunge' bands (including Mudhoney, featuring someone you'll see as a teenager in this video), exploded onto the scene in the early 1990's many of us who knew and saw early versions of these bands felt a strange mix of: pride, confusion, laughter, more pride, encouragement (that guys who just wanted to play fun music with an edge to it) could actually make waves in this world), and then, again, pride.

Here is the link to last year's post: 

https://peterwick.blogspot.com/2024/01/ 

At that time, a year ago, something that I thought was lost had resurfaced. An old audio cassette tape was digitized, along with some of our old super 8  movie footage, and in my mind the possibility of a music video was born.

Let me set the scene a little bit. We were teenagers living in a world - and with a group of friends - who were only interested in one thing; breaking all creative and artistic rules.

If there was a rule, we broke it. Naturally, at the time, this led us to 1980s punk rock. But aside from that, we were also 'Avant Garde.' We loved anyone and everyone who broke rules, so we set out to break them ourselves.

Then we heard an announcement on local radio station KZAM, by DJ Stephen Rabow, that any local band that send him a tape would be played on the radio.

Cue the joke-band taking one small baby step toward becoming real.

How real?

Well, as an Avant Garde collective, we were real enough to turn on a tape recorder. Were we a 'BAND,' in the same way other bands were? Not exactly.

Anyway, you've been warned.

Watch at your own risk:

Peter Wick

January 14, 2025

130 - Americans

When I was a kid we traveled a lot. 

Some of my most indelible childhood memories are from car trips we took around the country. Over the course of several childhood summers, I remember driving from our hometown of Seattle, through Oregon, California, Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, Colorado, Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, North Dakota, South Dakota, Minnesota, Nebraska, Oklahoma, and Texas.

I was fascinated by the diversity and old country charm of different parts of America,

I am a west-coaster. I grew up in Seattle - still consider it home - and these days I live in Los Angeles. So, you know, I'm the 'communist liberal elite,' or something.

While I obviously agree with more left-leaning politics, and away from what can only be called conspiracy-driven insanity on the right, I often think back to my childhood, and wonder if I can find common ground with people I disagree with politically.

I used to have a documentary film idea - maybe it could still happen - where I drive around the deep south, doing my best to connect with people, over a beer and a game of pool.

I was coming to the end of a book I was reading, recently, and looked at my book shelves wondering what to read next. I could go buy something new, I thought. I even had a title in mind that I wanted to purchase. In the end, though, I pushed the new book back a few weeks, and impulsively grabbed something old off the shelf, something I've read before.

It is John Steinbeck's 'Travels With Charlie.' I first read it in my late teens, and it resonated with me. The 'Grapes if Wrath' author, late in his career, sets up a camper truck for a cross-country drive, invites his dog Charlie to come along, and sets off across America.

Steinbeck finds the charm in America, in that way I imagine doing if I ever set off on my beer-and-pool cross-country trip.

Given the nature of recent election results, many Americans are processing reality in this country these days. How do we reach across the divide and find common ground with these people?

It truly does seem utterly insane that half the country voted for chaos and incompetence. And yet, these people are our neighbors.

At one point in 'Travels With Charlie,' Steinbeck points out that he 'respects all counties, but hates all governments.' Maybe there is a little common ground in that somewhere. I do, in fact hate all governments, including the U.S. government. Is it possible to love your country while hating your government? Well, I've sometimes said that I am very American 'culturally,' but not at all American politically.

Is this a thread that finds some degree of truth and common ground?

My dad was very hard-core right wing, religiously so, in the sense that he was one of those religious nut-cases that believes God will take care of any bad decisions a politician will make (sorry, Christians, god will not save you from stupidity). I also knew someone from the same generation as my dad, back in the day, who was JUST as hard-core left wing, and who felt that there 'has to be a special hell for Ronald Reagan.' I always felt that these two people, my dad, and this 'opposite' person were actually very very similar. They had opposing opinions, but they both sounded the same in defensing their crazy positions. They were making opposite arguments, but using the same tone of voice, the same 'logic,' and exactly the same passion in standing their ground.

In the end a country is a family. We are stuck with crazy Uncle Bob. He's coming to Thanksgiving dinner whether we like it or not. He's human. He has flaws. He might be misguided, but maybe we all are in some ways.

Take a moment. Give Crazy Uncle Bob a half-chance. Maybe if we look close we can find something human and redeeming in him.

In the end, you know, we only have one Crazy Uncle Bob, and we want his craziness at as many future Thanksgivings as possible.

Peter Wick

November 15. 2024

129 - Zombie Therapy

Dr. Randal looked up from his desk. He took in the sight of Jack calmly; Torn clothes, blood dripping from his right eye. Slightly decomposed skin.

"Good morning," Dr. Randal said politely.

"Morning, Doc. I'm Jack."

"Yes, of course. Have a seat, Jack."

Jack turned and slowly sat down on a very new looking couch. He sat slightly crooked, doing his best to keep stray blood from dripping onto the cushion.

Dr, Randal sat opposite him with a clip board in his lap, and a pen in his right hand. "How are you feeling today, Jack?" Dr. Randal asked, the perfect picture of professionalism.

"I'm...doing ok," Jack said haltingly. "I've been better."

"Let's catch up," Dr. Randal said calmly. "Start at the beginning. what's your story?"

"Well," Jack looked toward the ceiling, trying to decide just how complete a story he wanted to get into. "I was dead, you see."

"Mm hm."

"I was dead and buried, and, you know, I didn't know any better. Then I - well, several of us, it turns out - were re-animated because of, I don't know, some swamp gas or something."

"I imagine," Dr, Randal interjected, "that this came as something of a surprise."

"Oh, man, tell me about it. I mean, I was decomposing. Look at this shoulder." Jack pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose some badly decompose shoulder muscle. "I was dead and buried, being eaten by rats, you know, and suddenly a bunch of us are awake again, sticking hands up out of the ground, climbing back up here to the living world."

"Wow!" said Dr. Randal. "Then what happened?"

Jack dropped his head down slightly. He paused before lifting it and continuing. "I - we - ran into this group of people. They were scared of us. I was trying to reassure everyone that we meant no harm...then it happened."

"What happened?" Dr. Randal asked, jotting something down on his paper.

"This one guy," Jack said hesitatingly. "He seemed like a nice guy. He was willing to give us all a chance. But... then..."

Dr. Randal looked reassuringly toward Jack. "It's alright," he said. "This is a safe space. We don't pass judgement here. Tell me what happened."

"I - uh - I ate his brain."

Jack looked down and shook his head.

Dr. Randal noted something on his paper, then looked up. "Is this the only time?"

"No," Jack said. "That was just the first time. I don't understand it. I know it's wrong, but then I find myself face to face with some screaming human - uh, mean, living, normal living human, and it's the only thought in my head."

"What's the only thought in your head?:

"Brains! Eating brains."

"Let's start," Dr. Randal said soothingly, "with the good news. You're here. You're seeking help. You've come to the right place."

"Can you cure me?" Jack asked hopefully. "Can you cure me of eating brains?"

Twenty minutes later Dr. Randal was dead, his brain dripping in disgusting morsels from Jack's mouth.

Jack ran. He ran out the door and away, just away. Where to?

Only fate would know.

Poor Jack. Someday! Someday, zombies will find their way in society.

Someday...

Peter Wick

October 14, 2024

128 - The Entertainment Industrial Complex, Indie Artists, Kevin Costner's Horizon, and Coppola's Megalopolis

I spend a lot of time thinking about what I'm going to call, The Artist-Audience relationship.

It's a tricky thing to pin down, but you can easily recognize it at a live music concert. That direct connection between the Star on stage, and you in the audience. At a really good concert it elevates both parties, both the Artist, and the audience. Taylor Swift might not be my first choice personally, but someone I respect went to her Eras Tour concert here in L.A. and could only describe it as the best concert she'd ever seen. Taylor Swift has that Artist-Audience relationship.

It is more subtle when the event is not live; a director or movie star waiting months, up to a year, for their new movie to come out. 

Even trickier to pin down, is how to define this Artist-Audience dynamic when it is complicated; the classic Artist who barely has any (financial) success in his or her lifetime, but becomes influential to other artists, or maybe (Van Gogh, anyone?) becomes super famous AFTER passing away.

On the flip side are 'famous' people who feel trapped in their fame. Maybe they are an actor who broke through playing one particular type of character, a character audiences love, but then that actor struggles to express themselves through alternate, more diverse types of roles (Jim Carrey comes to mind).

Hollywood is not in the business of Art. I'm not new in saying this (Coppola's new film coming later). Hollywood is The Entertainment Industrial Complex. That's why so many superhero movies get made. They are a 'safe' choice to bring in many millions of dollars at the box office. This is not news. Many, both deep inside the industry and (maybe where I am) on the fringes of Hollywood, recognize this as simple truth.

I credit an old friend of mine for helping open my eyes to some alternate ways of viewing this whole world of fame, art, audiences, and The Entertainment Industrial Complex. That old friend of mine is Mark Arm, of the band Mudhoney. He doesn't know I'm writing this, so I hope he takes it as a compliment.

In the 1990s, 'Grunge' music seemed to come from nowhere and stamp itself on the public zeitgeist with no warning. Record executives were lost. They did not know what to do with this new movement. All they knew was that Nirvana and Pearl Jam were suddenly selling millions of albums, so, well, let's get some more of that!

Mudhoney signed with a major label, but they were always going to be the fly in the ointment. I know first hand that Mark did not care one bit about fame. He laughed at the very idea. Mudhoney was never going to do what a record executive wanted them to do. They were going be themselves, and make their own music, without regard to how 'famous' it made them. The result, predictably, was that it made them sort of moderately famous, exactly the amount of fame that was right for them. What a concept; wanting AN AUDIENCE, but not going after the big FAME.

You may or may not have heard of Mudhoney before reading this, but along with their old friends, Pearl Jam, they are just about the last two grunge bands standing. Mudhoney might not be as "Famous" as Pearl Jam, in the narrowest definition of the term, but they have an audience. I emailed Mark once when they were in Barcelona, Spain. People come to their shows. Mark sometimes refers to some their current audience with the amusing phrase 'Grunge curious.' I consider their level of 'fame' to be healthy. They are Artists, grungey, sometimes abrasive artists (Mark is the nicest guy you'll ever meet in person, though), so there it is. they have a healthy Artist-Audience relationship.

Now...let's talk about famous people and their egos. And, yes, this is where Kevin Costner comes into the conversation. For something like 35 years, Costner has been planning, developing, abandoning, and then re-surfacing this "epic" 4 part movie series, Horizon. I put "epic" in quotes, because that was supposed to be the idea. The entire project seems to have been an ego-driven folly from the start. We've seen this before from Costner (The Postman, back in the 90s); super expensive, self-indulgent epics, that land with a quiet thud at the box office. I have actually liked previous westerns from Costner. I really did like Dances With Wolves, but even more, I loved Open Range. When Horizon: Chapter One, flopped, and I had not seen it yet, I wanted to give it a chance. Maybe it's just misunderstood, I thought. But no, it is folly. It has nothing new to say. It tries to be 'epic' while rehashing all the old western tropes.

Kevin Costner, absurdly, may even consider himself an 'Indie" Artist, because he financed the film himself, without the involvement of the Hollywood studios. This is where the Artist-Audience relationship becomes twisted. It becomes a one-sided, mirror-staring love affair with oneself. Costner has probably convinced himself that he did it 'his way,' the 'right way.' This is a cautionary tale for any of us who have egos (yes, I said 'us').

And finally we come to Francis Ford Coppola. It is sometimes (remember that word 'sometimes') exciting when a great Artist does something ground-breaking. There is a very fine line between greatness, accompanied by soaring imagination and ground-breaking vision, one the one hand, and misguided ego-driven self-indulgence, on the other hand. As I write this, Coppola's Megalopolis has not yet been released to theaters. I write about it based the trailer that is now available, and all the write-ups and reactions from those screenings the film has had.

Francis Ford Coppola has made two - no, let's say three - films that rank among the greatest films of all time. The list might have to be expanded to top 30, top 40, maybe top 50 of all time, but in that group will be three films by Coppola, The Godfather, The Godfather II, and Apocalypse Now. 

Coppola believes in Art. I remember watching an interview he did several years ago. Someone asked him what advice he had for younger, up and coming filmmakers. "Change the world through Art," he said. 

He is a believer.

He also financed his film himself, and he knew exactly why he was financing it himself. Studios wouldn't touch this film. Too weird, too experimental, too 'Artsy.'

But I say all this with a sinking dread that Megalopolis might be the 85 year-old Coppola's own ego-driven folly. Again, I haven't seen it yet. 

I worry, though.

Keep in mind (and this is NOT a common Hollywood mind set) it's ok if it flops at the box office. A great work of art does not have to make its money back. It only has to find its audience, and find some consensus regarding its relevance.

So, the jury is out.

Has the richest indie filmmaker of them all done something visionary and ground-breaking? Or...has he given in to self indulgence, and paid for his project himself, because everyone else was right to stay miles away from it?

I am hopeful that he did the first thing. I have a sinking feeling, though, that he has done the second thing.

We will soon find out...

Peter Wick

September 9, 2024