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Folks, it’s time to evolve. That’s why we’re troubled. You know why our institutions are failing us, the church, the state, everything’s failing? It’s because, um – they’re no longer relevant. We’re supposed to keep evolving. -  Bill Hicks

I had hoped that by summer's end there would be no more trade war posts to write but there appears to be no end to the ongoing struggle. Fears of a recession are increasing, so much so that Bank Of America is offering advice on how to navigate the impending slow down, the price of everything continues to march upwards,  retailers are failing in droves , and even a Republican lawmaker is calling for a tax cut due to tariffs . This last point should prove once again that a tariff is a tax passed on to consumers, but try to explain that to the true believers who support the fun and easy to win economic policies of the current administration. At least things aren't boring. The market reaction to the Fed's announced rate cut (which flies in the face of all logic) followed almost immediately by a tweet announcing more tariffs on Chinese products sent the VIX off the charts and VIX traders into a rapture or rupture, depending on which side of the trade they were on. And yet,

The language of the American south is a rich and varied thing, rooted in English but infused with bits and pieces of Native, European, and African languages. Then there's Redneck, the official language of country music. Today, I'll attempt to translate an outlaw country song for those less fluent in the language than a native southerner such as myself. The subject of today's translation will be  Copperhead Road  by the great  Steve Earle . Released in 1986, it was and remains Earle's highest-selling single. Lyrically, it tells the story of a young Appalachian man making his way in the world. The song lyrics will be italicized, the translation in plain script. Let's begin: Well my name's John Lee Pettimore Same as my daddy and his daddy before Allow me to introduce myself. I'm John Lee Pettimore III. You hardly ever saw Grandaddy down here He only come to town about twice a year My grandfather was not one for travelling, although he occasionally

Not your typical holy man My wife and I ripped through the third season of Stranger Things over the course of an evening and morning. It is an excellent addition to the series, one with many memorable scenes and moments. As it had been a while since we last watched the previous seasons, we decided to go on a binge. Stranger Things is the kind of series that rewards a second viewing for missed or forgotten details and I was rewarded with a realization of the young Byers' role in the story. Although he is a wizard named Will The Wise while playing Dungeons & Dragons with his friends, Will is no wizard. He has no powers (not even in the Upside Down, a place where a normal person becoming something opposite of itself would seem feasible), is prone to affliction and even possession, all the while just trying to make sense of it all. With all his time in the otherworld, encounters with demogorgons and the Mind Flayer, Will's greatest contribution is to see and describe to

If I'd written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people -- including me -- would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.  - Hunter S. Thompson

The penalty for knowing how to cook is that the others will make you do all the cooking.  - Ernest Hemingway

Location: deep in the Bible Belt, southeastern USA. The state is Georgia, stomping grounds of the crony capitalist and single-issue voter. "Georgia is open for business!" our elected officials say. Being a Republican-dominated state, they are business friendly, as long as it's the right kind of business. Green industry? No thanks, we love to pollute in Georgia. Tech? Only in Atlanta.Sex trafficking? Keep it in the massage parlors, and limit the ladies to Asian heritage. A common thread running through my particular part of the state is that of the "Christian businessman." This creature attempts to marry two seemingly incompatible ideals, that of the money-making titan and the holy renunciate, into a self-conflicted superbeing. Henry Miller once wrote about this sort of person, but it wasn't until my 30's that I met a self-professed CBM. Oddly, this was in Australia, a very secular state. Prosperity gospel, however, knows no bounds, reaching even in