Monday, February 23, 2026

Learning Res., Inc. v. Trump is Like a BET Cypher, Alternatively Titled "If you rely on IEEPA I feel bad for you son, it provides 99 delegations but tariffs ain't one"

On Friday, in Learning Res., Inc. v. Trump, the Supreme Court held that the International Emergency Economic Powers Act (IEEPA) does not authorize the President to impose tariffs.  The gist of it all is the IEEPA lets the President "regulate imports" which isn't the same thing as taxing or tariffing.  Six justices agreed on this outcome, but there were two different rationales and lots of shade thrown across three concurrences and two dissents.  It was all very hiphop, as if they were in a Federalist cypher.

The cypher started with Chief Justice Roberts writing for himself and Justices Kagan, Sotomator, Jackson, Barrett and Gorsuch, applying the "major questions doctrine" (some newfangled coproma passed off as conservative jurisprudence) which says that "Congress would not have delegated 'highly consequential power' through ambiguous language. These considerations apply with particular force where, as here, the purported delegation involves the core congressional power of the purse."  This means that the party asserting that they were delegated the Congressional power at issue must "point to clear congressional authorization” in the relevant statute.  You may recall that six Justices relied on this doctrine to overrule Joe Biden's student loan forgiveness plan in Biden v. Nebraska.

Justice Kagan then got on the mic to represent herself, Sotomayor and Jackson.  They concurred, but they felt there was no need to invoke the major questions doctrine because "the ordinary tools of statutory interpretation amply support [this] result."  I am an ordinary tool and I agree with them.

Justice Gorsuch, ever the philodox, took it upon himself to get on the mic and write 46 pages (the main opinion was only 21!) bemuting upon everyone else's analysis except the Chief Justice's.  First he essentially accused Justices Kagan and Sotomayor of outcome-based reasoning, picking the winner based on their personal preference rather than a rigorous application of the law.  I'll channel the underpants gnomes and go to third, where he also essentially accused Justices Kavanaugh, Alito and Thomas of outcome-based reasoning but in a slightly nicer way (although he does linger a bit to highlight, albeit politely, the preposterousness of Thomas's dissent).

But second, and remarkably, this quibberdick spilled ink across nine pages to desticate over Justice Barrett's application of the major question doctrine in Biden v. Nebraska!  He's so irked about an opinion from three years ago that he had to drag it into this one.  We all have a guy like this at work.

Justice Barrett did not appreciate having her name on the streets.  Naturally, she channeled her inner Mad Cobra and wrote a concurrence directly addressing Gorsuch, saying "I would not treat this evidence as precedent for a judicial flex."

If you were young and alive in northern New Jersey in the summer of 1992 you undoubtedly are familiar with Mad Cobra's song "Flex."  It's more likely than not that you spent time in a car with a number of other young, alive people with the windows down and this song playing loudly.

Parenthetically, Wikipedia says "Mad Cobra stated that he was on a flight returning from New York, and was watching an exercise video on the in-flight entertainment system, and the lyrics 'How this lady flex like she want to have sex?' came to him. He wrote the lyrics for the song on an air sickness bag in his plane seat and took them to the studio when he arrived in Jamaica."

Perhaps Justice Barrett wrote the opening draft of her concurrence on an air sickness bag too.  Or maybe she's a Rich Homie Quan fan.

The mic then passed to Justice Kagan who explained her reasoning admirably but fumbled a major opportunity to flex (see what I did there?) her New York City credentials.  In explaining the various actions delegated by Congress to the President under the IEEPA, she noted there are "9 verbs listed in IEEPA's delegation provision" and "[t]hose verbs are followed by 11 objects, each describing a distinct sort of transaction involving foreign property."  She then did some fancy math and concluded "Combine the verbs and objects in all possible ways, and the statute authorizes 99 actions a President can take to address a foreign threat.  And exactly none of the other 98 involves raising revenues."  This passage clearly screams for the conclusion "If you rely on IEEPA I feel bad for you son, it provides 99 delegations but tariffs ain't one."  

Justice Jackson took to the mic to spit eight bars (just four full pages) saying that all this sniping is unnecessary because Congress's intent is clear from the legislative record.  Conservatives refuse to look at the legislative record when interpreting statutes, instead favoring dictionaries and other historical references.  That's how we wind up with "history and tradition" tests like this bunkum.  I would've said something like "Our forefathers wrote IEEPA for foreign property, the Prez can take it in wartime but not impose duties. Come here, young blood, and take a look.  Acknowledge your legislative history!"

When SCOTUS finally invites me to one of their cyphers I'll get them straightened out. 

Saturday, February 21, 2026

This Poor Fucking Mope

I haven't worked out of an office since the pandemic. That's led to some unexpected consequences. For example, I only put about 5,000 miles a year on my car, which means I'll be able to keep it a lot longer than I originally expected. This does not make Z happy, since he's an enabler/pusher who wants everyone to buy a new exotic vehicle at least yearly.

Grooming has taken on a different priority during my home-bound period, as well. I mean, I still take a shower every morning, brush my teeth twice a day and all that. But I go a lot longer between haircuts than I used to since I often only see one human in person during the workday. At the moment, my hair is quite possibly as long as it's been at any point in my adult life. It's out of control, all bushy and spiky, and wayward.

It could be worse. I could be Frank Illett.

Illett is a 30 year-old Englishman and Manchester United fan. In October 2024, during a fit of pique at the Red Devils' ongoing run of poor play, he vowed to not cut his hair until his heroes won five straight matches.

They really hadn't been close until two weeks ago. And Frank was going through it. His hair has grown an estimated 25cm in the more than 500 days since his last trim, from this:


To this:

Illett's long tonsorial nightmare seemed close to ending on February 10. United fired beleaguered manager Rubin Amorim in January. Interim skipper and club playing legend Michael Carrick took over and immediately led the squad to four wins on the bounce. All that was left for Illett to book an appointment with his barber was a win at relegation-threatened West Ham.

Clippers at the ready, Illett and his pals streamed their viewing of the match. And when it ended in a 1-1 draw, this is how Frank appeared:


That poor lad. At least he's doing some good, using his locks to raise money for charity. And he's got a pretty good chance of working as a Brian May lookalike. Almost makes a fella want to root for Man U. 

But not quite.

Thursday, February 19, 2026

The Origins of 10 Band Names: Song Titles

Where do band names come from? All over the place. Here, there, and everywhere. There are articles and books and blogposts all about them. 

I know without conferring with any robots that:
  • They Might Be Giants was the name of a movie in the 1970's
  • 10,000 Maniacs also came from an old movie, except that it was called 2,000 Maniacs
  • Steely Dan was the name of a dildo
  • Duran Duran was the bad guy in Barbarella
  • Grateful Dead was just something they saw in a dictionary, so said Jerry
  • ABBA is the first letter of the band members' names
  • Husker Du was a Scandinavian board game
  • I told you 'bout Skynyrd
  • 10cc and The Lovin' Spoonful are supposedly the measurement of and slang for average ejaculate
  • R.E.M. -- another dictionary find!
And that's just what I can think of, there are thousands more tidbits... of what my dad calls "useless information that Whitney knows."

But... today we are here to listen to songs that inspired band names!

One of my faves...





DC locals!

Sometimes you add an "s"...

Sometimes you subtract an "s"...


And this post's origin story is that I just found this one out yesterday! In the film version of the Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour, a trippy, silly thing, there's a Python-affiliated goof group called the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, and they sing their song that has had its name grow more popular since the early aughts...

Now ya know. Enjoy!




Wednesday, February 18, 2026

We're No. 69! TCU Edition

The Big 12 Conference is one of the four remaining power leagues in college athletics and thus assured of receiving multiple bids to the NCAA Tournament. It’s home to a handful of Bigfoot programs that are annual participants – Kansas, Arizona, Houston, Iowa State (how and why the Cyclones are a national hoops power is one of the sport’s great curiosities) and several others that cycle in and out of the discussion. Conference realignment and consolidation have seen the league add programs such as ‘Zona and Houston and BYU in recent years, which strengthened the overall product but also made it a stone-cold gauntlet for any program that doesn’t have an elite talent pipeline. 

Which brings us to today’s entry in the almost-but-not-quite discussion of the 68-team field: the TCU Horned Frogs. Texas Christian sits squarely in the middle of the 16-team league with a decidedly bubbly resume’. Hoops guru Ken Pomeroy has the Frogs rated 50th following the weekend. NCAA Net Rankings have TCU at No. 45, and ESPN’s Basketball Power Index has them at No. 53. ESPN bracketology hound Joe Lunardi has the Horned Frogs as his first team out of the field. 

Historically, the private university in Fort Worth, Texas was a fixture in the old Southwest Conference. After the SWC demise in the mid-1990s, TCU wasn’t included with its traditional rivals in the aftermath and spent the next 16 years bouncing between the Western Athletic Conference, Conference USA and the Mountain West before latching onto the Big 12 in 2012. The Horned Frogs have a pretty modest hoops history, but head coach and TCU alum Jamie Dixon has elevated the program in his 10 years. 

Recent history: Four NCAA appearances since 2018, including three in a row from 2022-24. As many tournament appearances since 2018 as in the previous 49 years. Also, an NIT title in 2017, all of which traces to Dixon. He was an all-conference player at TCU in the late ‘80s and inducted into the school’s athletic Hall of Fame. He’s won more than 500 games as head coach in 23 years, first at Pittsburgh and then TCU, and is one of 11 active coaches with 15 NCAA trips. 

Mascot/nickname profile:
Horned Frogs are a nod to one of the region’s common animals, which is actually a horned lizard and not an amphibian and the Texas state reptile. Its use as sports team mascot dates to the late 1800s. 

Home arena: Schollmaier Arena (cap. 6,700), which opened in 1961 and has been renovated and updated several times, most recently an $80-million upgrade completed in 2015. It also has one of the singularly distinct home courts in college hoops, a kind of multi-shaded gray mosaic that’s supposed to emulate lizard skin. 

Notable hoops alumni: Kurt Thomas (New York Knicks), Lee Nailon (15-year pro career in the NBA and overseas), Kenrich Williams (OKC Thunder), Emanuel Miller (Cleveland Cavs), Desmond Bane (Orlando Magic). 

Current season: Horned Frogs (16-9, 6-6) have won three in a row, heading into Tuesday’s XL matchup against fellow bubble resident Central Florida. No stars, but decent balance. Four players in double figures, led by 6-7 sophomore David Punch (14.3 ppg, 6.9 rpg), 6-8 junior Xavier Edmonds (12.4 ppg, 6 rpg) and 6-0 senior Jayden Pierre (10.7 ppg). Eight players average between five and 14 points per game. 

Reasons to believe: To start with, Dixon, an excellent coach and tactician who has excelled at both the college and international level. Quality wins against Florida, Iowa State and Wisconsin. A respectable 5-6 record against Quad 1 teams and 4-2 versus Quad 2 and 3 teams. Big 12 schedule elevates their profile. 

Reasons to fade them: A lot of undistinguished numbers. Middle of the pack in effective field goal percentage offense and defense. Below middle of the pack in 2-point and 3-point shooting. A non-conference strength of schedule that’s No. 336. A dreadful loss to New Orleans to open the season, a beatdown by Colorado and a loss to Utah for the Utes’ only conference win so far. Lunardi projects the Big 12 to get seven teams in the field. TCU currently is tied for eighth, so unless the Frogs step up in their final six games and conference tournament, their horns are likely to get squeezed.

Monday, February 16, 2026

What the Kids are Doing

I was 55 years old the first time I went to a record release party, and I was quite likely the oldest person in the joint. Hanging with the youths keeps me young. 

My eldest kid lives in an apartment Richmond with the lead singer of Receiver, who bill themselves thusly: "Receiver formed from the ashes of Charlottesville band Natalie Blue, as two members - vocalist and guitarist Jamie Vandenheede and bassist Liam Keough - moved to Richmond. Shortly after rounding out their lineup with guitarist Leo Pecci and drummer Sasha Kennedy, Receiver began a grueling 2025 that featured 25+ shows, an EP and an infomercial! Their sound is informed by the hypnotic rhythms and angular guitar lines of late 70s and early 80s post-punk and the guitar-pop sensibilities of the 80s college rock circuit."

Here's their first single, "Souvenir":


And this link has a couple of snippets from the release party at The Camel, a cool little dive bar/music venue on Broad Street. 

The kids are alright.

Friday, February 13, 2026

Fashion is... Teejus F'ing Christ, What are these Abominations?

 And why must I own them...

Before clicking this link, come up with what you think these cost? Then be prepared to have your mind blown by what they actually cost. What are we doing here people?



Thursday, February 12, 2026

SAGTTP (Should a Gheorghie Take The Piss)?

Gheorgies,

I have a bit of a conundrum. There's a retired guy that is often at my local YMCA. I don't want to dox him, so let's call this fellow Karen.

Karen talks to everybody. I occasionally see him jawing in the weight room, but the locker room is where he prefers to work. In fact I've probably mentioned him before in the comments as the guy who played The Rush Limbaugh Show at high volume on his phone speaker in the locker room (rest in piss, el rushbo). He wears a red hat to the gym sometimes. Yes, the standard issue version.

There are lots of Karens. This is the one I'm referring to.


I make it a practice to simply ignore Karen when I see him. If I had to break down the percentages for my reasons to ignore him, I'd put it at 69% due to loudcasting his support for toxic politics and 31% not wanting to risk catching a glimpse of Karen's tiny flaccid pecker.

Today, while I was chatting with someone else Karen piped up with a comment about 'topics that set him off'. "Give us a warning of what they are so we can avoid them" I said as I finished getting on my workout clothes. I'm not sure what came next was exactly the warning I'd requested. 

Gheorghies, he Karened. "I wanna know how that Ilhan Omar went from having no money to having $30 million! I think we need to throw her in jail for 20 years and then deport her..." I imagine he kept going, but I started walking as soon as he started his diatribe. It did call to mind a revenge fantasy I may or may not have imagined in the past.

Apparently only some politicians are allowed to have money.

And Gheorghies, that's where you come in. What's a fair comeuppance for this locker room Karen? I'll share my diabolical idea first, and accept suggestions in the comments for other more sensible measures. This is all strictly hypotheical, of course.

Proposal A - Fill small squeeze bottle with urine and keep it stashed in the back of my locker, until I find myself there alone, at which point I discharge the squeeze bottle of piss into one of the vent holes in Karen's locker. A budget version golden shower, if you will. 

Surely there are some drawbacks to this plan. I know it's gross. But I'm also ridiculously hydrated most of the time, so I also worry it may not be gross enough.

Sound off and tell me - SAGTTP? TIA!