Trump Sets the Tone

Good morning, Stroock's Books participants, you brave few. 

Ah, a bit of rain yesterday with another bit of rain coming later. We expect spring like temperatures today. 

We got to the gym for a more or less complete cardio session yesterday. The rowing machine was no problem. We had to cut short the bike time, but overall we're pleased.

Tariffs? We've no idea. Though we must admit GOP orthodoxy on free trade these last three decades hasn't paid dividends, right? Right? What do the experts say? They're usually wrong.* Wait, did Ontario premier Doug Ford bend the knee? Eat more poutine, fatty.

And screw Canada. Seriously, if the CPC blows this race we'll never worry about or bother with Canada again. It ain't looking good. We've seen the phrase 'deep majority' tossed about. Fuck you, Shoresy.**

Related: our Northern Ontario Senior Hockey Association and Sudbury Blueberry Bulldogs T-shirts should arrive today. Set the tone, boys. Set the tone.

So War Night has been edited, proofed and read by a well wisher or two...and we still find mistakes and typos that these people missed. Which is why the author, any author, must needs read that printed proof one last time. Frustrating AF, but necessary. Exit question, do people reading the finished copy just not see typos? 

Some readers do notice the odd mistake and let us know in Amazon reviews. Thanks, you bilious bastards. We're glad you felt it necessary to take the time to point that out, scumbags. Ah critics. Without them, with what would we wipe the dog shite off the bottom of our shoe?

Behold this all-time banger from across the pond: 'I've just read a sample of a book about a nuclear war in 1975. The author clearly really wanted to have Margaret Thatcher as the Prime Minister for the aftermath, and hang the plausibility...Yes, 318 Labour MPs all conveniently under the path of nuclear bombs, allowing Margaret Thatcher to survive in one of Denis Thatcher's 'small estates in the country northeast of London'. MPs gathered in Parliament, in London. You don't say? Fuckwit. We could go on, but decorum gets the better of us. 

DOGE report: Yesterday we began a new scene in World War 1990: Thatcher's War and edited two others. 

We read the Lexington chapter in War Night and got the proof back from the proofreader.

*You know, when we began this blog almost exactly a decade ago, we called ourselves an unreformed (unrepentant?) Neocon. It's not that we think tariffs are great. As we write this the stock market is two minutes away from opening and we approach that with [Great fear and trepidation?-Ed], great fear and trepidation (Update: wow!). It's just that we think what America's been doing the last 30 years hasn't worked. And don't those poutine eaters up north slap tariffs on American goods?

**For what?!