This week in the saga

Tuesday morning the quarter comes in at four point three and sixty of sixty-one economists are wrong. Christmas Eve, at twenty-two minutes to one in the morning, two words in capitals. That evening the greeting is extended to everyone including the scum trying to destroy the country. And on Christmas night itself, at his direction as Commander in Chief, a strike is launched across an ocean, described in the same post as a Christmas wish to the dead. Fifty-two minutes later a second greeting goes out to everybody who ever liked the dead financier, ending with the hope that they enjoy what may be their last one. Sunday he takes a call from one president before lunch and receives another in his dining room after it.