#he also admits america has the most logical reads / mind alongside himself in the house but also downplays her efforts a lot

[harley-sunday]

A Good Man Goes to War [01]

Summary: Starts right after Civil War. Steve Rogers is done being Captain America and quite happy living a quiet life in a safe house somewhere in Canada. Until Thanos goes after the Infinity Stones. What happens when a good man goes to war? 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (f) but could be read as reader insert.

Warnings: Minor language.

Word count: 4.5k-ish

Entry for @browngirlmagic​‘s writing challenge.  My prompt was “Demons run when a good man goes to war.”

AN: By now you all know I need validation, hence the quick update. Like I said before, this is unlike anything I’ve ever written before, so please let me know what you think. It’s kind of scary to put this out there ♥

I don’t do taglists, but if you follow Harley Sunday x Steve Rogers you should see any update I post.

Masterlist

He sleeps for most of the first couple of days he’s there, as if his body and mind finally allow him to catch up on all those hours of sleep he’s missed over the years. When he is awake he always finds a fresh glass of water and a plate of sandwiches on his bedside table, which he is grateful for because even though he is still so tired, he is also quite hungry. As he eats, he listens for her from his bedroom, more often than not hearing her quietly humming along to whatever song is playing on the sound system while she busies herself downstairs. 

It is on day five that he finally wakes up feeling well rested, but when he sees himself in the mirror in the bathroom they share he has to do a double take because his beard has taken over half his face and he almost doesn’t recognize himself. Still, he keeps it, only trimming the edges. The shower is nice and hot and he comes out of it feeling ten times better. He puts on a pair of dark blue jeans and pairs it with a flannel button down shirt that seems appropriate in this setting.

He finds her in the kitchen, kneading some dough that he hopes will get turned into more of that fabulous homemade bread. “Hey,”

“Well, hello Sleeping Beauty,” she says from over her shoulder, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she smiles.

“Yeah,” he runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at the base of his neck, “sorry about that.”

She tuts, shaking her head, “Please. After what you’ve been through I didn’t expect you back in the land of the living for at least another day or two.” 

“So you know then?”

“It was in the file Nick sent over after he made the call,” she replies almost apologetically. Then, as though she wants to change the subject, “There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”

“You’re the best,” he says with a grin, realizing he actually means it. He wraps both his hand around the mug after he’s poured the coffee, leaning against the counter to her right, watching her as she kneads, and kneads, and kneads. She makes it looks effortless, but he’s sure he’d be able to mess it up if he ever gave it a try. His eyes travel across the kitchen and the living room and he finds more and more evidence of ultra modern technology he hadn’t seen when he first got here. He figures that even though it might look like a simple log cabin from the outside, it is probably decked out with the latest technology on the inside, which, no doubt, is a requirement for a safe house. 

“So, I assume you have some questions?” She gives the dough a final fold before she picks it up and carefully drops it into a bread basket. She washes her hands and dries them off on the towel hanging over her shoulder before she helps herself to a cup of coffee and gestures towards the living room, “Let’s sit down.”

He finds himself pulling out a chair at the dining table, sitting opposite of her, realizing then that yes, he actually does have some questions. Which is strange because he always thought it would be the other way around. But she mentioned a file from Nick earlier, and if one thing, those always tend to be very detailed. He allows himself to really look at her then, instead of those quick glances he kept stealing on the way from the airport. She has kind face, there’s no doubt about it, but there’s also something else there, something he recognizes as sadness and he wonders what her story is. That’s not for now though, he decides.

“Don’t be shy,” she challenges him from across the table, a mischievous grin playing around on her lips.

“Ok,” he starts, “This is your cabin, right?”

“Yes,”

“Right,” he replies. “Please don’t be offended, but-”

“You want to know if I’m going to be here all the time or if I’m actually going to leave you alone at some point?”

“Well,” he sighs then because she seems to have read his mind. “Yeah.” 

She laughs, “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” She looks around the room, “The cabin and I, we’re kind of a package deal.”

“That’s fine,” he’s quick to reassure her. “I’ve been on my own long enough, I quite like having someone around.”

“Good,” she says before she fishes a piece of paper from the pocket of her apron and slides it towards him. “Chores are another part of the deal I’m afraid-”

“Seems fair,” he quickly assures her. 

“It’s just,” she starts, smiling, “you could probably chop more firewood in an hour than I could in a day so it would just be a waste of resources if I didn’t let you do that.” Her finger taps the second line then, “I will make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but in return you’re in charge of the dishes and taking out the garbage.”

He smiles, “No problem.”

“The last one isn’t really essential,” she clears her throat, “but  uh, I’ve already killed so many of them that I’m now putting each and every one that is still here into your care.” 

“How?”

“I don’t know,” she sounds defeated, “I’m just not good at keeping things alive, ok?” She must realize what she’s just said then, because she buries her face in her hands, “Oh God, that came out wrong, because I’m sure I’ll be able to keep you alive.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mutters quitely.

She hasn’t heard because she shakes her head and continues, “It’s just plants I have a problem with.”

He puts one of his hands over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “It’ll be fine.” 

They settle into an easy rhythm after that, where he’s the one who wakes up early and makes sure to get the coffee going before she joins him downstairs about an hour later. Breakfast then, after which she’s in the kitchen to either make bread, pickle vegetables, or make jam from a variety of berries she finds somewhere deep in the forest, only stopping to make them lunch. He’s outside most of the mornings, chopping firewood, making sure the wood’s properly stacked alongside the cabin, and that there’s enough to last them through most of the winter. He usually tends to her vegetable garden after lunch, even though surprisingly enough she’s been able to keep most of her crops alive so far. 

They go into town about once a week, on Wednesdays, when there’s a farmer’s market, a trip that takes them most of the day and so they treat themselves to lunch at the Thirsty Moose bar, where he takes a special liking to their Philly Cheese Steak Poutine. She tells him she always treats herself to fresh flowers when she’s at the market and so every Wednesday night there’s a new arrangement adorning the dining table. He’s decided he likes it. 

The evenings are spent on the porch, catching the last rays of sunshine after dinner, quietly talking about anything and everything, but nothing too serious yet. They are getting to know each other more day by day and he quite likes that there’s still somewhat of a mystery about her. When it gets too cold they head inside, where she makes them both a hot chocolate that they finish on the couch. He almost always goes to bed first, while she stays up late, reading books about whatever topic holds her interest at that moment. He has seen her scribble little notes in the margins of the pages, and he doesn’t know why, but it makes him like her even more. 

She surprises him with a variety of cupcakes on his birthday, which happens to be exactly two weeks after he’s arrived here. There’s also a gift, and he finds himself a little speechless when he unwraps a beautiful handmade axe, which is amazingly balanced. She tells him he’s been using her lightweight axe, and that this seems to fit him much better. He agrees wholeheartedly. 

She’s put a birthday candle into the strawberry cupcake, telling him he has to make a wish, even though he argues he’s technically ninety-eight and might be too much of a grown up for that. She giggles then, tells him he looks pretty darn good for his age, before she counters that he’s been put on ice for 66 years and so she thinks they’re actually only celebrating his thirty-second birthday. He can’t really argue with that logic and so he blows out the candle in one go. 

She tries to get him to tell her his wish, but he warns her not to push him or he’ll give up on the plants and at least that gets her to back off a little. 

The wish he’s made on his birthday lasts exactly two months. 

And what a great two months they have been, he reminisces. Summers here are mild, she told him, and she wasn’t wrong. Still, being this far north meant they got plenty of sunshine and the forest offered them an abundance of edible plants and berries, which they collected on what quickly became their regular afternoon walks. He feels comfortable around her, things are easy between them, and so he finds himself opening up to her more and more. 

He tells her about his upbringing in Brooklyn, about Bucky, the war, and how lost he felt without his best friend, both the first and second time he thought he had lost him. He admits easily that it took him a long time to somewhat adjust to this modern society he woke up to after being defrosted, and that he’s still not sure he’ll ever really be a part of it. There’s a lump in his throat when he tells her about what happened to Bucky after he fell from the train, and how he ended up fighting his best friend several times before they were able to help him. 

He’s still angry when he talks about the Accords and what happened after, even though he’s quick to reassure her he’s happy that it made him end up here. More about Bucky then, how this time he got to fight alongside his best friend and how Bucky is now trying to heal with the help of T’Challa and his people in Wakanda. He tries to explain Wakanda to her, but knows he’ll never be able to do it justice and so he promises to take her there some day. 

She just lets him talk, only asking questions when something is unclear to her, and God, it feels good to finally tell someone the whole story, even though he’s sure she already knew most of it from the file Nick Fury sent over. Still, she listens and he talks, and he thinks that maybe his birthday wish is coming true. 

But then, somewhere at the end of summer, she calls out for him, “Steve?”

He hears it in her voice, even though he can’t quite explain what it is, only that it’s not good. He stacks the two pieces of firewood he’s holding and rushes inside, finding her in the kitchen, looking upset. 

She nods towards the living room, “There’s someone here to see you.” 

His heart’s in his throat then, because how did they find him? Does this mean he’s compromised? Should he just make a run for it? No, he thinks, he can’t just leave her here. He turns around, a sigh of relief escaping him when he sees the familiar redhead sitting on the couch.

“Hey, stranger,” she says with a smile.

“Natasha.” He wants to be happy to see her again, really he does, but he knows she’s not just here on a social call and so he asks, “Sam?”

“He’s outside,” she replies with a nod towards the front porch. 

“You can come in,” he says, knowing the comms unit she’s wearing will pick up his voice, and sure enough, Sam comes bursting through the door seconds later.

“Steve, man it is good to see you!” 

He returns the hug, because yes, it is good to see his friends again even though he’s sure what will follow next will make him wish they never showed up. He tells them to take a seat on the front porch, says he will join them in a minute.

Natasha glances over his shoulder with a knowing look, then throws him a wink before she gently pushes Sam outside.

He turns around, “I’m sorry, I had no idea-”

“I know,” she smiles. She holds up the phone he knows only Nick Fury has the number of, “The message came just as they pulled up. I would have told you earlier, but I didn’t-”

“Hey, no,” he takes a few quick steps towards her, hands on her arms. “I’ll go find out what they want ok?”

She nods, biting her lip because he’s sure she knows as well as he does it means he’ll have to leave soon. “I’ll,” her voice catches in her throat, “I’ll get you some coffee.” 

“Thank you.” He lets go of her, but then something makes him go back and kiss the top of her head, “It’ll be alright.”

“Yeah.” 

He joins Natasha and Sam outside then, listens to what they’ve been up to these past weeks, not surprised to learn they’ve gone rogue and are now doing missions on their own. He asks how they found him, but he doesn’t get a straight answer out of either of them, even though he knows they must have contacted Nick. He’s the only one who knows where he is. 

“Cap,” Sam starts once there are three steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. “We need you, man.” He looks at Natasha, but she just nods, and so he continues, “These missions, well, it’s not like they’re super dangerous, but there’s only so much we can do when it’s just the two of us.”

“We’re doing Nick Fury’s dirty work,” Natasha explains, “but it’s work that needs to be done.” And, because she knows him and knows what he’s about to ask next, “It’s not illegal per se, but yes, we are trespassing and taking things that technically don’t belong to us.”

He nods, leaning back in his chair.

“Look, Steve,” Natasha puts a hand on his arm, making him look at her, “we wouldn’t be here if it was absolutely necessary.” She explains then, how there are five missions in total, spanning a little over a year, that he’d be gone no more than six weeks at a time, that she and Sam will do all the preparations, that he just has to show up and help them complete the mission. 

“I don’t know.” He sighs, casting a glance over his shoulder, finding her in the kitchen, where she’s trying to knead some bread but he can tell her heart’s not in it. They’ll have to feed it to the birds, he thinks wryly. He looks back at Sam and Natasha, knows they need him too if not more, knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself if something happens to them because he’d rather stay here and ignore the outside world. “I’ll do it,” he says, “but not as Captain America.”

Natasha nods, “That seems fair.”

“So you’re really going rogue with us then?” Sams asks with a grin. “Tell me, man, what should we call you now that you’re not carrying the shield?” 

He thinks about that for a while, but then, because it seems fitting, “Nomad.”

He can tell she’s not happy about it, even though she never says anything. If anything she just becomes more distant, the chatty nights on the porch now spend indoors, with her reading, and reading, and reading, and him waiting until Natasha sends him the mission details on the secure phone she handed him after their visit. It hurts, but he gets why she feels this way, she was meant to keep him safe, after all. He’s tried to explain once, why he choose to go, but she just shook her head and he stopped talking. 

When they go into town together that Wednesday he lets her do the grocery shopping, while he meets up with the guy he’s been in contact with about the bike he has for sale. It’s a Harley Davidson WLA ‘Liberator’ and it reminds him of the bike he used to drive when he was in Europe. After taking it for a test drive and agreeing on the price he’s a little hesitant to show her his purchase, but she just shrugs and tells him it’s a nice looking bike. Small victories, he supposes. 

The message comes a week later, just as he’s done with the dishes for the day, giving him the coordinates to the pickup point where they’ll pick him up with the Quinjet the next morning. His GPS tells him it’s a three hour drive from here and so he’ll have to get up early, meaning he only has one night with her before he has to leave. He tells her about the mission, that this is their last night together for a while and to his surprise she asks if he wants to have a hot chocolate on the porch.

“I’d love to,” he replies, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It’s already getting dark outside and so he busies himself turning on the two gas lanterns on either end of the porch before lightning the candles on top of the table. 

She joins him not much later, handing him a big mug topped with a generous amount of whipped cream, “Here you go.” 

“Thank you,”

“Listen, I uh,” she sits down on one of the Adirondack chairs and motions for him to do the same. “I’m sorry, about well,” she raises her eyebrows, “this week, I suppose.”

“Honestly, don’t-”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I wasn’t being fair. You don’t have to answer to me about well, anything you do, really.”

“Except the plants,” he says, trying to let her know it’s ok. That he understands.

“Except the plants,” she echoes, smiling. 

“I left the instructions  on the fridge, ok?” 

She nods, “I will follow them to a T.” She looks at him then, “Just be careful, ok? The plants and I’d like to see you back here in one piece.”

“Will do,” 

“Promise me.” Her voice catches in her throat somewhere and she tries to smile but he can tell she’s fighting back tears.

He reaches for her from across the table, his hand on hers as he gives it a little squeeze, “I promise.”

He’s missed her, he realizes now that he’s finally on his way back to her. 

He’s been gone for almost four weeks, the mission somewhere in South America, where the weather was much more forgiving than what he’s dealing with now. The cold wind bites through his gloves and jacket, like little needles pricking in his skin. The signs along the road tell him he’s almost there and so he opens up the throttle, wanting nothing more than to see her again as soon as possible. 

She must have heard his bike coming up the road because she’s waiting for him on the porch, smiling when she sees him pulls up.

He parks the bike at an impossible angle, right in front of the steps leading up to the cabin, but he doesn’t care, because it only means he can get to her quicker. He takes his helmet off as he steps off the bike and hangs it on the handle bars, before he walks up to her and wraps her in his arms, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she says from somewhere against his chest, her arms having found their way around him. “I’ve missed you.” 

He lets go of her ever so slightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I’ve missed you too.” 

She looks up at him, “Are you ok?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I am now.”

“Come on,” she lets go of him and takes one of his hands in hers, “let’s get you inside.” She leads him to the kitchen, where she examens him carefully, her brows furrowed when she sees he’s got several cuts on his face.

“It’s nothing,” he assures her, but then her fingers ghost over the cut above his brow and he winces, because he took a pretty hard blow there just this morning, the skin still tender. 

She tuts, “Go take a shower. I’ll take care of that once you’re done.”

“It’ll be healed by tomorrow,” he counters. “The serum, remember?”

“Yeah, well, humor me.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest then, “Upstairs. Shower. Now.”

He does as he’s told, the warm water actually making him feel a bit more human. He puts on a pair of sweatpants she bought for him on one of their trips into town, claiming you can’t really relax in a pair of jeans when he told her he didn’t have any other pants. He grabs a t-shirt from out of his closet, not bothering to put it on because he knows she’ll want to see if there are any other cuts and bruises that need her attention.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters quietly when he makes his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. She lets her eyes travel across his chest before she looks up at him, “Are you even real or?”

He chuckles and shrugs, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs. 

Standing in front of him she hands him the first aid kit, her fingers once again examining his skin, her eyes widening in surprise when she sees most of the cuts are starting to heal already. “You really weren’t kidding,” she whispers.

His eyes find hers and he shakes his head, “Nope.” 

Something that looks like relief flashes across her eyes then, but she hides it by telling him to put his shirt on and handing him a cup of hot chocolate.

Natasha already warned him that the next mission would start soon, but he never thought he’d only get four days of rest before they’d ask him to head out again. The mission brief suggests a short trip, two weeks tops, but he knows from experience that’s way too optimistic. At least the pickup point is closer this time, only a two-hour drive from the cabin and they won’t pick him up until late tomorrow afternoon so at least he still gets to spend some time with her. And the plants that have been in her care the past four weeks.

“You know what?” He can’t help but smile when he examines her work, “I’m not mad about this.”

“No?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “you really did a great job.”

“So they’re fine?” 

“More than, I’d say.” He turns towards her, a little thrown of by the mischief in her eyes. “What?”

“Even that one?” She points to one of the succulents in the windowsill, and he can tell she’s trying to keep a straight face.

He looks closer and laughs then, “It got smaller.”

She giggles, “It got replaced.” She throws her hands up in defense then, “I don’t know what happened, one day he was fine and the next-” she makes a face, “-dead.” 

“Uhu,”

“Steve, I promise, I did everything you told me to do.” 

He throws an arm around her shoulder then, pulling her close, “You can’t keep buying new plants every time one dies.”

She scoffs, “I’ve been doing it for years.”

He was right about the second mission, they were gone a little over six weeks and by the time he gets back the forest is covered in a thin layer of snow and so he has to park his bike on the side of the house, next to where’s he stacked to firewood. He finds her on the porch, like the last time, and she throws her arms around him as he pulls her into a hug.

“I thought you were never coming back,” she says quietly.

“I know,” 

“Let’s go inside,” 

He takes her outstretched hand and follows her into the cabin, the warm glow of the fireplace welcoming him back. Like last time, she examines him closely, but he came out pretty unscatched and so she’s quick to tell him to go take a shower. She asks if he is hungry when he’s halfway up the stairs, and when he tells her he is, she sets out to make him a quick dinner of some leftover she finds in the fridge. 

She allows him to eat his dinner on the couch, which she’s never done before, but she must see how tired he is. This mission was a waiting game more than anything else, long days spent trying to gather as much intell as possible before moving in to secure what they came for. 

“I really missed you,” she says suddenly, and when he looks at her he finds her eyes a little glossed over. “I never felt lonely here before, but this time, I don’t know,” she tries to smile, and he can tell she’s trying not to make too much of a big deal out of it. 

He puts his plate down on the coffee table and motions for her to come closer, wrapping his arm around her once she’s snuggled up to him, “I really missed you too.”

[citizentruth-blog]

Trump’s Bad “60 Minutes” Interview and Worse Economic Policy - PEER NEWS

New Post has been published on https://citizentruth.org/trumps-bad-60-minutes-interview-and-worse-economic-policy/

Trump’s Bad “60 Minutes” Interview and Worse Economic Policy

President Trump gave scarily bad answers in his “60 Minutes” interview with Lesley Stahl. But it’s what his administration and fellow Republicans are doing with respect to economic policy that’s truly terrifying. (Photo Credit: Michael Vadon/CC BY-SA 4.0)

The way President Donald Trump operates, it’s not like many of the remarks he made during his recent interview with Lesley Stahl for 60 Minutes were particularly surprising or groundbreaking. Many of his comments were riffs on the same songs he has sung before.

Even if they weren’t very earth-shattering or shocking, meanwhile, Trump’s comments were nonetheless disappointing to hear/read as an American who doesn’t share the same set of values. Stahl’s questions ranged across a fairly wide set of topics, but here are some of Trump’s most noteworthy insights:

Trump “doesn’t know” that humans have a role in climate change.

Pres. Trump seemed to walk back one-time comments he made that climate change is a “hoax.” In the same breath, however, he expressed doubt that it’s manmade, and when Stahl pressed him on the overwhelming evidence that it does exist and that we’re contributing to it, he suggested that this climate change could simply reverse somehow and that the scientists advancing the consensus theory have a “very big political agenda.”

That Trump would feign concern for the effects a shift away from fossil fuels might have on American jobs is commendable, at least by his standards. Trying to effectively deny our hand in climate change as part of a political agenda when the scientific consensus is such a strong one, on the other hand, is exactly the kind of thinking we don’t need at this stage in the game when more urgent action was needed yesterday.

Trump suggested there could be “severe punishment” for Saudi Arabia if found they were behind the disappearance of Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi, but didn’t provide specifics.

Trump admitted it was possible the Saudi government was behind the murder of Khashoggi, and indicated the vehement denial on the part of the Saudis. He then hinted that weapons deals could be at stake, but as he did with concerns about climate change, he pivoted to worrying about jobs at companies like Boeing and Lockheed Martin. So, while he acknowledged the possibility of sanctions, Trump doesn’t seem all that committed to endangering business ties with Saudi Arabia because of it. Astonishment of astonishments there.

At this writing, reportedly, the Saudis are preparing to admit Khashoggi died during a botched interrogation. Obviously, the interview was taped prior to these reports. What was worst about this segment, though, was that Trump said the matter was especially troubling because Khashoggi was a journalist, even making an aside about how strange it must be to hear him say that. Yeah, it is, and it comes off as more than a little disingenuous after regularly railing at members of the press and calling them the “enemy of the American people.” Pardon us if we’re not especially enthralled by your promises that you’ll get to the bottom of his disappearance.

Trump claimed that Barack Obama put us on a path to war with North Korea, and qualified his “love” for Kim Jong-un.

Evidently, under President Obama, we were going to war with the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, but now—BOOM!—no more war and Kim is talking about nuclearization. You’re welcome, America. Get that Nobel Peace Prize nice and shiny for “the Donald.”

Within Trump’s logic, it’s his trust for Kim that has been such an essential diplomatic asset. This despite the possibility raised by Stahl that North Korea hasn’t gotten rid of any weapons and may actually be building more. Trump, attempting to further distance himself from Obama, intimated there are no plans to ease sanctions, but Stahl persisted on the topic of Trump’s stated “love” for North Korea’s despotic leader. Trump tried to minimize the language he used as a figure of speech, but Stahl belabored North Korea’s horrid human rights record under Kim and his father.

Trump’s admiration for dictators is nothing new, but hearing him downplay talk of gulags and starvation is yet bothersome. More on this to come.

Trump still has no idea how tariffs work, nor does he apparently have high regard for his supposed allies.

President Trump insisted China is close to negotiating on tariffs and other matters of trade. In the meantime, though, President Xi Jinping (another leader with dictatorial aspirations overseeing a country with questionable regard for human rights) and China are content to retaliate with tariffs, and Stahl questioned how long we will be content to try to strong-arm China into negotiation when it’s American consumers who are bearing the brunt of these tariffs. Is the point to use the people of each country as bargaining chips in an escalating trade war?

Trump argued with Stahl for a while about whether or not he called it a trade war, a skirmish, or a battle, but this is semantics (and he totally f**king did call it a trade war, according to Stahl). Alongside likely overstating our trade deficit with China, Trump once more communicated his faulty understanding re tariffs. What’s more, he seemed ambivalent as to the continued integrity of diplomatic relations with Europe as a function of NATO membership, and grew combative with Stahl on the point of levying tariffs on our allies and inviting disunion. As long as Trump and his advisers hold to the narrative that the United States is being taken advantage of by the rest of the world when it comes to defense spending and trade, the average consumer is the one who will be caught in the middle.

Trump believes that Vladimir Putin is “probably” involved in assassinations and poisonings.

But only probably. Continuing the earlier conversation about Pres. Trump and his love of autocrats, the man would not commit to saying that he believed Putin was behind attacks on critics and political opponents, professing that he “relies on” Russia and that it’s their country, so it’s essentially their business. I’d be eager to know what precisely he means when he says he relies on them, and it’s possible his drift is a more innocent one, but when so much seems to hint at Trump being compromised by Russian ties, it’s hard to give him the benefit of the doubt.

This sentiment only grows when considering his hedging on Russian interference in the election and his evasiveness on the Mueller investigation. When prompted by Stahl on meddling in the 2016 presidential election, Trump was quick to rebut by claiming China meddled as well. Even if that were true, however—experts say there is evidence of a pro-Chinese influence campaign at work, but no concrete evidence of Chinese electoral meddling—it’s a deflection. Stahl called him out on this tactic, only to be argued within the spirit of whataboutism.

Additionally, Trump refused to pledge that he won’t shut down the Mueller investigation. In other words, um, yeah, you should still be worried about Mueller’s fate as special counsel. Particularly if the midterms go poorly for the Republican Party.

That whole family separation thing was all Obama’s fault.

When asked what his biggest regret so far has been, the first thing that jumped to Trump’s mind was not terminating the NAFTA deal sooner. Not the whole taking children away from their parents thing, as Stahl interjected. It’s not exactly mind-bending to witness Trump fail to recognize a policy bent on unmitigated cruelty as his worst mistake, but it still stings like salt in the proverbial wound if you fashion yourself a halfway decent human being.

To make matters worse, Trump defended the policy under the premise that people would illegally enter the United States in droves otherwise. Furthermore, he blamed Barack Obama for enforcing a policy that was on the books. To be fair, Obama’s record on immigration is not unassailable, as his administration was responsible for its share of deportations. But separating families is a new twist on trying to enact “border security,” and it ignores the perils immigrants face upon return to their native land, perils we have helped exacerbate. Try as he might to escape it, Donald Trump and his presidency will be inexorably tied to this heartless policy directive.

The country is divided, but that’s the stupid Democrats’ fault.

According to Trump, the country was very polarized under Obama, but now on the strength of the economy, he can see it coming together. You’re welcome, America. Stahl questioned him on this criticism of Obama and the Democrats’ contributions to political rancor when he and his Republican cronies just won on the Kavanaugh confirmation and he proceeded to immediately lambast the Dems. Trump predictably deflected by saying it’s the Democrats who don’t want the country to heal. They started it! They were so mean to Brett Kavanaugh! What a bunch of stupid babies!

In case you had any doubts, Trump doesn’t give two shits about Christine Blasey Ford.

Continuing with theme of Kavanaugh’s confirmation, Lesley Stahl addressed Trump’s mockery of Dr. Ford’s testimony before Congress, asking why he felt he had to make fun of her. Trump says she was treated with great respect. Stahl was, like, really? Trump was, like, anyway, who cares? We won.

That’s right, ladies and germs—the ends justify the means. It’s all about the W. You heard him.

The White House is definitely not in chaos. Definitely not.

The on-air portion of the 60 Minutes interview ended with Stahl asking the president about the media reports of a White House in turmoil. Three guesses as to his reply. If you said “fake news,” you’d be correct. (If you didn’t, what’s wrong with you?) Trump also didn’t seem fazed about the high turnover within his administration. Hey, sometimes it just doesn’t work out! Along these lines, Trump wouldn’t commit to James Mattis as Secretary of Defense, nor would he give a ringing endorsement to Jeff “I’m Only a Racist on Days That End in ‘Y'” Sessions. Not that I have any great love for either of those men, but it’s still messed up when a man like Trump expects unflinching loyalty and yet stands by his appointees only when it’s convenient.

Trump also opined on his feelings of distrust of White House officials, consummate with his assessment of Washington, D.C. as a “vicious, vicious place.” Good news, though, fellow Americans: he now feels very comfortable as POTUS. Many of us might be continuously on edge, but he’s right as rain. Well, at least there’s that.

To some, Lesley Stahl’s 60 Minutes interview with Donald Trump was disappointing in that it didn’t break new ground. Sure, it further revealed that he is ignorant of how basic economic and scientific principles work, that he possesses a predilection for strongmen, that he will blame Barack Obama for pretty much anything, that he holds absolutely no regard for survivors of sexual assault, rape, and sexual violence, and that he has the temperament (and possibly the intellect) of a grade-school child. But we already knew all this. As noted earlier, it’s more salt in the wound for members of the so-called Resistance, but short of potentially alienating our allies with his public comments—which is not to be undersold or encouraged, mind you—but comparatively, his words are sticks and stones.

It’s where Trump’s actions and those of his administration have effect that should truly frighten us, meanwhile. As he so often does, Matt Taibbi provides excellent insight into the area of biggest concern: the U.S. economy. Stahl noted in voiceovers during the interview that Trump loves to talk about America’s economic success. After all, it makes him look good. Never mind that he may have a limited role in that success and that he inherited favorable conditions from his predecessor, but he wouldn’t be the first president to take advantage of others’ successes.

Trump was notably silent, conversely, when the Dow recently fell 1,377 points over two days amid a stock market sell-off. As Taibbi writes, this event is but a prelude to a larger economic disaster, and it stands at the confluence of three irreconcilable problems. The first is the Federal Reserve raising interest rates as a means of trying to rein in the excess of large companies taking advantage of quantitative easing and zero-interest-rate policy.

This might not be such a problem except for the second factor: the Trump/GOP tax cuts. As economic experts warned prior to their passage, the cuts were based on overly enthusiastic projections of economic growth. When the inevitable tax shortfall occurred, we would need to start borrowing more, as is already underway. Higher interest rates on increased borrowing means more of an economic burden.

All of this comes to a head when we consider the third problem: tariffs. To try to make up for the issues raised by higher borrowing rates and a revenue shortfall, the government this week debuted new Treasury bills in the hopes of generating immediate cash. The potential conflict arises when considering China is the primary buyer of U.S. T-bills and holds over a trillion dollars in American debt.

The assumption is that Chinese demand for Treasury notes will remain unchanged despite the tariffs. However, as Matt Taibbi and Lesley Stahl and others are right to wonder, what happens if the trade war’s tariffs hurt the Chinese economy to the point that China no longer can or is willing to subsidize our skyrocketing debt? It’s a purely theoretical question at this point, and a rhetorical one at that, but the fallout from the intersection of these trends could be devastating. Taibbi puts a cap on the gravity of the situation thusly:

As we’ve seen in recent decades, even smart people are fully capable of driving the American economy off a cliff. What happens when the dumbest administration in history gets a turn at the wheel? Maybe last week wasn’t the time to start panicking. But that moment can’t be far.

Ominous, but perhaps not hyperbole. Noting what happened last time when the economy nearly collapsed, when the next disaster strikes, it will undoubtedly be we, the other 99%, that pays most dearly. Especially as Mitch McConnell and his Republican partners would have it, now clearly eying cuts to Medicare and Social Security.

President Trump may enjoy schmoozing with Lesley Stahl and giving bad answers his base will eat up now. In the short to long-term, though, the terrible choices of his administration and his party could prove costly to the American economy, and by association, the global economy. Though he undoubtedly won’t meet with our same burden, he should at least take more of the blame when it does.