The Ides of April

So simple an eight-year-old could do it.

Actually, I'm not sure how old Edison Lee is, but I suspect that he could do taxes because he hasn't yet been steeped in April 15 Fear, which is found in the cartooning bible somewhere between all those slippery banana peels and the pies cooling off on open windowsills.

Mind you, I also have a theory that the reason starfish can grow back amputated arms is because they're too stupid to know it's impossible.

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself: When people decide "word problems" are difficult, and that they've never used algebra in their daily lives, it's a case of having just enough knowledge to paralyze yourself.

I saw someone complaining online that, thanks to Trump, he'd lost a bunch of deductions this year, which would perhaps be true if the changes applied to this year's taxes, but they don't.

I've also heard cartoonists complain about losing deductions which are basic business costs and will be deductible even under the new rules.

That's really a case where a little knowledge can be expensive.

Two solutions for next year:

1. Get a debit and/or credit card that you use only for deductible purchases. That way, at tax time, you've got a full record of business and medical expenses and don't have to play the "What was this for?" game with every purchase. 

2. Get Turbo Tax or some equivalent software. It's cheaper than an accountant and will save you a lot of scrambling through paper forms. And it updates itself as often as the IRS moves the goalposts.

Then you can get your taxes done quickly and join Joel Pett in complaining about the overall unfairness of the system, which goes much deeper than simply making you do some arithmetic. (No, it's not math. It's just arithmetic.)

Next year, I expect to feel very hypocritical, because the combination of being in a low bracket and being self-employed is, I think, going to redound to my benefit. 

It's okay. I can handle it.

 

I operate on two central beliefs: One is that timing is everything, and the other is that most things are done for my exclusive benefit.

And today's Bizarro combines them, because on Friday I made a road trip down to the big city, Durham. Well, the bigger city. And I believe I discovered that Bernie & Phyl's programs their electric signs from their headquarters in Massachusetts, because it read "No Sales Tax or Free Delivery."

Which would offer you a choice in the Bay State but which, in sales-tax-free New Hampshire, means you get neither. 

See "Bizarro," above.

   

Meanwhile, at the End of the World

Matt Davies gets a nice laff based on Comey's book, which I am not going to read.

It took me long enough to get through "Fire and Fury," and that only confirmed the insane chaos that was obvious from the outside, which Comey can't make sound any worse.

Meanwhile, though Trump makes clear his disdain for the law, it's nice to get a chuckle out of it.

Gallows humor will have to do until we've got some actual gallows.

RJ Matson's take on Trump's attitude is less humorous than cringe-producing, as the wounded animal begins to circle the wagons and hunker down for a siege.  

I've compared the Trump White House to "Animal Farm" several times, specifically where the banished Snowball is scapegoated for the failure of the windmill, and where the reigning pigs, having abandoned the principles of the revolution, persuade the other animals that their motto has always been "Four legs good, two legs better."

The difference being that, in Orwell's novel, the pigs are in ascendancy, and you could hardly write a dystopic novel in which greed and lies didn't pay off.

Not to spoil it for anyone who skipped ninth grade, but, at the end, the pigs are indistinguishable from the evil farmers that the animals had overthrown.

The creatures outside looked from Trump to Putin, and from Putin to Erdogan, and from Erdogan to Duterte, and from Duterte to Trump: but already it was impossible to say which was which.

Or something like that.

 

Except that the walls are not closing in on any of those strongmen, and Trump's growing desperation is completely transparent, with Rob Rogers commenting on Dear Leader's latest top-secret message.

I've read speculation that Trump had never heard of Scooter Libby until this week, and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he still didn't know the specifics of what Libby had done for which he needed a pardon, but the more important thing refers back to Davies' cartoon: The actual law.

I've read, and am willing to believe, that presidential pardons are only valid for federal offenses, which means that, while Trump can pardon anyone found in contempt of Mueller, he wouldn't be able to help those who refuse to cooperate with the state charges that seem likely in New York.

The question I'd like an answer to is whether a president can pardon those who are, in essence, co-conspirators, or, at least, whose actions or omissions benefit him.

Anyway, I can recall my attitude during Watergate, which was that having the evidence isn't the same as winning the battle.

But I became a whole lot more optimistic about things after Alexander Butterfield testified.

 

 

Which coordinates rather well with the good news that Ann Telnaes notes, which is that Trump's bonehead lawyer was taping his conversations, and that Rose Mary Woods isn't gonna be able help anybody because the tapes are already safe and secure in the hands of the FBI.

And now here's an uplifting bit of analysis that should make you feel better while we wait for justice.

Or just hum this song of joyous retribution:

Ironic, I suppose, that it's set to the tune of "Marching Through Georgia," given that we may have to suppress some brainwashed deplorables before the whole disastrous episode is put to rest.

Comments

[Bookworm]

"The question I'd like an answer to is whether a president can pardon those who are, in essence, co-conspirators, or, at least, whose actions or omissions benefit him."

I've been wanting the answer to that, too. I was hoping it would be here in the comments when I got down to them. Doggonit.

Good post. Thanks especially for the link to the "uplifting" Adam Davidson piece.

[Bob]

Just an FYI - The ides of April was two days ago. IRS day being exactly a month after the day Julius Caesar was supposed to Beware the ides of March confuses the fact that the ides more frequently occurs on the 13th of the month than the 15th.

I certainly hope Adam Davidson is correct with his assessment; however, I'm a political pessimist.

[Mike Peterson]

I meant to do that, but "two days after" didn't fit on the line.

But, yeah, I knew that. Of course. Who didn't?

[Mary McNeil]

General Sherman is one of my heroes.

[Kip W]

I've often speculated that just reading the ALL-CAPS parts of unhinged screeds might MAKE more SENSE than reading the whole thing.

A truck stop we used to see once or twice a year had a sign:
NO SHOES
NO SHIRTS
NO PETS
NO SERVICE.
Really made me wonder, it did.

[Kip W]

Mary McNeil, I used to live in Statesboro, Georgia. Some time after that, one of my art teachers gave us the assignment to paint an oil portrait of a Civil War General, and I chose Sherman. "Anybody who burned Statesboro to the ground couldn't be all bad," I reasoned.

(I've mellowed, though, and wish Statesboro success and joy, just as long as I'm not required to live there.)