Greetings and welcome to this 90th and Memorial Day edition of the Carnival of Fools. I hope the holidays find you well. (Condolences to Easterners about the weekend weather; aside from a brief Sunday morning squall, as a result of which I was reminded why it is good that children wear Crocs, it’s been utterly delightful out here by the shores of Lake Michigan.)
Beyond anything else, I hope you take a moment to remember what Memorial Day is about, aside from brats and brews. Veterans Day is for all those who served in the U.S. military, living or dead. But Memorial Day is specifically about a sacred tier of our military dead: those American men and women who gave “the last full measure of devotion” for their country. Some of you — though fewer and fewer in recent generations, which is something to be thankful for — know them by name, in a family tree or a school-age photograph. Remember that they slept too soon, before their time, so that you could awaken in America every morning.
With that in mind, let’s briefly discuss a war whose outcome is apparently on hold until whenever terms neither side will publicly acknowledge are finally negotiated and agreed on.
What Is There to Responsibly Say About Iran?
Well, it was inauspicious timing given the solemnity of the holiday weekend, I’ll start with that. For those unaware, President Donald Trump kicked off the long weekend by announcing on Friday that he was in advanced negotiations with the Iranian regime about a 60-day cease-fire that would lead to the end of the war:
I am in the Oval Office at the White House where we just had a very good call with President Mohammed bin Salman Al Saud, of Saudi Arabia, Mohammed bin Zayed Al Nahyan, of The United Arab Emirates, Emir Tamim bin Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, Prime Minister Mohammed bin Abdulrahman bin Jassim bin Jaber Al Thani, and Minister Ali al-Thawadi, of Qatar, Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir Ahmed Shah, of Pakistan, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, of Türkiye, President Abdel Fattah El-Sisi, of Egypt, King Abdullah II, of Jordan, and King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa, of Bahrain, concerning the Islamic Republic of Iran, and all things related to a Memorandum of Understanding pertaining to PEACE. An Agreement has been largely negotiated, subject to finalization between the United States of America, the Islamic Republic of Iran, and the various other Countries, as listed. Separately, I had a call with Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu, of Israel, which, likewise, went very well. Final aspects and details of the Deal are currently being discussed, and will be announced shortly. In addition to many other elements of the Agreement, the Strait of Hormuz will be opened. Thank you for your attention to this matter! President DONALD J. TRUMP
Nobody (outside the named parties, perhaps) knows what this means. And I mean nobody. Almost immediately after the post was made, Iranian regime sources hotly contested every word of it, saying the regime would be assuming full sovereignty over the Strait of Hormuz and would never forfeit their weapons-grade nuclear material or forgo the goal of building a nuclear program. Then, as details of the purported deal emerged — including the potential unfreezing of billions of confiscated Iranian assets as a payoff — Trump took to Truth Social to back and fill, saying he wouldn’t “rush” a deal, or that he might make no deal at all, or that he might agree to a five-day delay to negotiate a 60-day truce to negotiate a final settlement, etc.
The point is that nobody knows what’s happening, only that Trump is engaging in his typical political methods of bluster and delay. And this is fitting, since he is dealing with a legendarily dilatory set of negotiators in the Iranian regime, who are no doubt aware of the rhythms of American electoral politics. (“Just remember, the Iranians never won a war, but they never lost a negotiation!” — Donald Trump, 2019.) Since I cannot know what the final terms of this deal are — or whether the publicly enunciated terms will bear any resemblance to the military and diplomatic reality — it would be pointless to focus on specifics.
So what to make of the situation? Nothing, except to fall back on common sense and all prior experience with Trump: He blundered, he’s in a jam, and he is desperate to at least pretend that he has wriggled his way out of it. I’ll wait until he declares victory and goes home to offer my opinion on the matter, but if you’ve been reading my work, you can already guess where I’ll be falling in my judgment. I could tell you I’m waiting to offer it because I’m uncertain of the final outcome, but in truth I just don’t feel like discussing it on Memorial Day.
Don’t Go Away Mad, Thomas, Just Go Away
You may have noticed that I was notably more muted than many of my colleagues about the defeat of Thomas Massie in last week’s Kentucky primary. Believe me, it’s not because I have ever doubted that he is a lunatic. Perhaps it’s because I feel I’m better at explaining the forces currently animating our politics when I detach my analysis from my moral judgment — which I’ve proven pretty bad at doing, in any event. (It is a “historicizing” tendency, and perhaps a mistake — forever trying to grasp a “big picture” even as it is unfolding in real time. Our current chaos will cohere into a true narrative only after it has washed over us. “May you live in interesting times,” as they say.)
But it really is worth emphasizing that Massie is a lunatic, and I am emphatically happy to see the back of him despite the appalling amount of money wasted on a safe-seat primary race. He long ago crossed over the “is he or isn’t he an antisemite?” line into a full-blown troll. (This is seemingly the fate of all such edgelords.) And now that he’s on his way out, he’s determined to leave as gracelessly as possible, screeching like a feral cat being dragged out of the House chamber by its tail.
On the night of his eight-point defeat, last Tuesday, Massie immediately demonstrated a level of public class that he had heretofore mostly kept between him and his (alienated) colleagues in D.C.: “I would’ve come out sooner, but I had to call my opponent and concede. And it took a while to find Ed Gallrein in Tel Aviv.” Geddit? Gallrein is a Zionist pawn! Forget that Massie got on Trump’s bad side for one real reason only: his maneuvering to toss a PR grenade into the administration’s works with the release of the so-called Epstein files. Forget that he has voted against every single one of the administration’s economic moves (for this I don’t even necessarily fault him, but it’s bound to enrage others). No, it really just comes down to the Jews again. If that’s the way Massie wants to characterize it, who are we to deny the man’s testimony?
Massie then went on Meet the Press to participate in the typical loser’s interview. A man who once declared that he would retire to off-the-grid obscurity should he ever be rejected by the voters bleated about the “Epstein class” and publicly declined to say whether he’ll run for office again. He has chosen to keep his options officially open; who knows if Massie will come crawling out of the woods of rural Kentucky in the future to reclaim his patrimony?
Either way, I don’t care. I invite him to try, of course — it’s a free country, and I write about clowns for a living.
Image of the Week and/or Generation
Thursday, May 21, was graduation day for Centennial High School’s Class of 2026 in Franklin, Tenn. Despite anticipated forecasts of heavy rain and thunderstorms, public school authorities decided to hold the graduation outdoors, in hopes that they could squeeze the ceremony in between the various waves of storms. (There was concern that the school’s gymnasium would not be able to hold all the attendees; there was apparently less willingness to reschedule for better weather.)
Well, the authorities miscalculated terribly, and the results have gone viral over the long holiday weekend: absolutely torrential downpours created a memorable disaster for all, with ample documentation from angry parents in the stands. Life happens, and sometimes you really can blame the weather, but I do understand the angry yawps from Centennial parents who prefer to blame the school instead. Who wouldn’t have been distressed to see their son’s or daughter’s big day turned into a biblical affair? (I once attended an outdoor wedding gone horribly wrong because of rain — I was the one officiating it, mind you — so I know what this feels like.)
But look on the bright side! Think about the kids. Imagine sitting through that downpour, a young man or woman with a metaphorical cast of mind, looking for a fast ascension through the attenuated ranks of modern literary intellectuals: Your breakthrough youth feature at The Atlantic awaits you. “I Graduated into Adulthood Amidst the Maelstrom.” (PRO TIP: go heavy on the political symbolism, light on the use of AI.) And good luck.
Until next week.