Portrait of a Vandal:
It is a pitiful marker of the cultural IQ of a declining republic that the President of the United States—Donald J. Trump, a man for whom art has always been merely the wallpaper of ego—has decided to remove Kim Sajet from her position as Director of the National Portrait Gallery. Her crime, according to the president’s own blaring, characteristically illiterate dispatch on Truth Social, was that she was “highly partisan” and a “strong supporter of DEI,” which he pronounced, with the finality of a mall-court pharaoh, as “totally inappropriate” for her position.
Thus, Sajet—a scholar, a curator, an immigrant, and yes, a believer in the revolting notion that American culture might benefit from including more than just dead white men in powdered wigs—has been summarily fired by a man whose own official portrait, should it ever be permitted to hang in any institution not run by QVC, would properly be rendered in crayon, ketchup, and spray tan.
Let us be clear: Trump’s disdain for DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) is not rooted in philosophical disagreement. This is not Burke versus Rousseau. It is not even Nixon versus the NEA. It is the flailing tantrum of a man who sees any nod to pluralism as a threat to the soft, white dough of his self-image. “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History,” his executive order declares—as if “truth” had ever flowed from Mar-a-Lago except as a casualty.
Kim Sajet’s résumé would be impressive to any thinking person—which is to say, not the present administration. Born in Nigeria, raised in Australia, educated in Europe and the U.S., with a doctorate from Georgetown and executive training at Harvard, she represents precisely the sort of worldly intellect that Trump regards with uncomprehending suspicion, like a terrier eyeing a ceiling fan. That she curated not just the Obama portraits but presided over their five-city tour—bringing Americans face to face with the visages of a presidency Trump still broods over like a Shakespearean ghost—is surely the unforgivable sin here. She let the nation celebrate its cultural evolution, and for that she must be punished.
To call Trump’s act stupid is to underestimate the word. It is anti-intellectual, certainly, but it is also anti-civic. It is the cultural equivalent of urinating on a library, then blaming the librarian for the smell. Under Sajet, the Portrait Gallery did not become a “leftist den,” as the president’s unwashed footmen might shout on cable news; it simply became relevant. She ushered in exhibitions that asked real questions: Who gets remembered? Who gets seen? What does portraiture mean when the faces on the wall start to resemble the nation beyond the old elite?
Trump, of course, wants a Portrait Gallery where every wall is a mirror. A nation of one face, his, endlessly repeated like some capitalist Warhol nightmare: Trump in a cowboy hat. Trump in a flight suit. Trump next to Lincoln, Trump over Lincoln. That’s the limit of his aesthetic: narcissism cosplaying as patriotism.
His war on “wokeness” in museums—oh, what a depressing phrase, as if cultural institutions are now battlefields in the fetid imaginations of the aggrieved—is just another twitch in his long campaign against history that fails to flatter him. “Race-centered ideology,” he calls it, as if history itself were an act of aggression. In truth, what Trump cannot tolerate is ambiguity. The museum to him is either a loyalty test or a heresy.
Firing Sajet is part of a wider purge—he’s already sacked the Librarian of Congress, the Chair of the Joint Chiefs, and the Commandant of the Coast Guard. At this rate, the next head to roll will be the bronze statue of Frederick Douglass for being too verbose. The president is trimming the nation’s cultural branches with a blowtorch, leaving nothing behind but the smoke of grievance and cheap nostalgia.
The tragedy, of course, is not only that such a vandal holds power, but that so many cheer him on. In a healthy society, the dismissal of a museum director over “support” for inclusion would provoke outrage, not applause. But we are no longer a society invested in complexity or memory. We are a culture nursing its resentments like whiskey, grumbling at clouds and calling it populism.
Robert Hughes once said that the loss of critical thinking in American public life was “the slow death of the republic by boredom and bile.” This, then, is another knifewound in that body. Sajet’s removal is not a minor administrative change. It is a cultural obscenity, the replacement of merit with malice.
But let us not mourn too long. The galleries may be stripped. The plaques may be rewritten. But art, real art, will survive its saboteurs. And so will history.
Because the problem with purging the past, Mr. President, is that eventually it comes back—in portrait form.
And it remembers.
The TACO Doctrine:
The TACO Doctrine: A Study in Presidential Evasion
In the grand theater of economic policy, it is often tempting to mistake the clamor of cymbals for the resonance of conviction. Nowhere has this confusion been more persistently dramatized than in the peculiar choreography of President Donald Trump’s trade strategy—a spectacle of bold beginnings followed, almost invariably, by a retreat into bathos. The term now catching currency among economists and even the more impish bond traders is “TACO,” an acronym both zesty and damning: Trump Always Chickens Out.
Let us be clear. Tariffs are not a novelty. They are, in fact, among the oldest tools in the nation-state’s kit of self-inflicted wounds. Yet they have, on occasion, served a purpose—usually ill-defined, sometimes unintentionally. What is remarkable in the Trumpian era is not the resort to tariffs but the theatricality of their announcement, the drama of their declaration, and the predictability of their subsequent dilution.
At the outset, we were promised a new age of economic nationalism. American steel and aluminum would rise again; the trade deficit would melt like morning frost; China would be brought to heel; Mexico would pay—presumably in both currency and humility. In short, we were to believe that the businessman-president, with his infinite swagger, would do for the American worker what decades of globalist ne’er-do-wells could not.
And yet, time and again, when the moment of maximal leverage arrived—when the game required resolve rather than rhetoric—the president, to use the economic term of art, folded. What was touted as a 25% tariff would become a 10% deferral, then a partial exemption, then, most ignobly, a handshake deal signed in gold Sharpie and undone by Tuesday.
The Chinese, whose sense of irony is only matched by their patience, mastered the dance. They endured insult, tariffs, and tweets, only to find themselves, six months later, at a negotiating table set with the same empty platitudes and a president who craved applause more than leverage. The so-called “Phase One Deal,” that pinnacle of Trumpian tradecraft, produced not transformation, but soybeans—modestly purchased, ambiguously promised, and mostly forgotten.
To invoke Galbraith himself, one is reminded of his observation that “the modern conservative is engaged in one of man’s oldest exercises in moral philosophy; that is, the search for a superior moral justification for selfishness.” The modern Trumpist is engaged in something similar, though more comical: the search for a superior branding strategy for economic cowardice.
It is here that the TACO doctrine finds its true utility—not merely as insult, but as diagnosis. It speaks to a governing style where belligerence is substituted for strategy, and capitulation is camouflaged by fanfare. Trump’s tariff regime was less a doctrine than a dopamine hit. Each announcement brought a surge of attention, a brief rise in approval among the aggrieved, and then, once the cameras turned away, the predictable slide into ambiguity, exemption, and surrender.
In the end, what we are left with is not a trade realignment but a parable. A lesson in how bluster, unmoored from discipline, leaves neither friend nor foe certain of intent. TACO, then, is not just an acronym. It is an epitaph for a strategy that mistook shouting for strength and compromise for conquest.
As Galbraith might have said, though perhaps with more grace than this humble interpreter: “In economics, as in politics, it is not enough to be loudly wrong. One must, at the very least, avoid being repeatedly ridiculous.”
A Good Country for Thieves
The Quiet Below the Flag
On Power, Profit, and the Death of Shame in Washington
The man promised to drain the swamp. Instead, he paved it and built a hotel. He called it sacrifice. The numbers said otherwise.
Back in office and now a convicted felon, he stood atop a government stripped of watchdogs and filled with loyalists. He made sure the rules didn’t apply to him—and they didn’t. He said so, and no one stopped him.
The money came in. From Qatar. From crypto. From countries that once needed permission, now needing only proximity. His sons took meetings. They signed deals. They laughed at the idea of restraint. Why hold back when the crowd doesn’t boo anymore?
There were once hearings for this sort of thing. Now there are podcasts. A man called it corruption, but only “seemed like.” That was as far as outrage went—an implied shrug wrapped in audio. Nothing stuck long enough to matter. The country was too tired. Too wired. Too numb.
The president said he was too rich to need more money. But he took it anyway. Planes. Partnerships. A $1.2 billion jump in net worth. The figures were public. The silence was louder.
A judge called it the most brazen abuse of office in history. But history doesn’t press charges. The Justice Department had new management. Oversight was out to lunch. Ethics had a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.
Some protested. Some posted. The rest adjusted.
He had changed the rules, and then made it clear there were no rules. Not for him. Not anymore.
The swamp didn’t disappear. It became private property. Membership required influence. Entry was granted in Bitcoin or blood loyalty.
Above it all, the flag still waved. But beneath it, the silence had settled. Cold. Heavy. Permanent.
And no one moved to fix it.
The Republic of Razzmatazz
Let’s talk about Bruce Springsteen. The Boss. You remember him—he’s that guy who writes songs about working-class struggle while drinking wine with millionaires. Yeah, that guy. So he goes to England—because of course, the revolution’s always safer from overseas—and he says some unflattering things about Donald Trump.
Now here’s where it gets fun: Trump hears about it and goes on this Truth Social tirade. He calls Bruce a “prune.” Not a has-been, not washed-up—a prune. That’s not an insult, that’s something your grandma takes to loosen her bowels.
You called him a dried-out prune, but coming from a man who tans like a yam and tweets like a parrot with a grudge, that’s rich—richer than your hair color.
Then Trump says Bruce “should keep his mouth shut until he gets back to the country.” Oh good! Now patriotism comes with a return ticket to Vaudeville McCarthyism.
And Trump—this cat, he goes off. Calls him a jerk, a prune, atrophied! That’s not a statement. That’s a bingo card of ego rage. He’s not mad Bruce is un-American, he’s mad Bruce didn’t do his bit in the skit. He missed the cue. And citizenship now, baby, it’s all a skit. It’s got blocking, lights, a two-act structure, and the lead’s gotta be loud, orange, and allergic to introspection.
This isn’t politics anymore, folks. It’s Las Vegas on C-SPAN.
It’s got costume changes, musical numbers, and a warm-up act named “Ron DeSantis.” You wanna be a good citizen now? Don’t vote. Applaud.
Citizenship? In my day, it meant voting and apple pie. Now it’s catchphrases and curtain calls! Ya don’t need a Constitution—you need a script doctor and a two-drink minimum!
We’re not a country anymore. We’re a residency in Atlantic City.
One nation, under the spotlight, divided by cue cards.
You know what’s ironic? We’re the only country in the world where free speech is protected and yet everyone’s constantly yelling, “SHUT UP!”
So here we are: The former president beefing with the Boss.
And the punchline? We’re all extras in the sitcom called America.
No script. No union. And definitely—no refunds.
Leaker? Liability? Lateral Promotion! Trump Nominates Walz to Represent U.S. at the U.N.
In a bold new chapter of “Are You Even Kidding Right Now,” President Donald Trump has decided that Michael Waltz — the same guy who accidentally added a journalist to a top-secret Signal group chat about a military strike — should now be America’s voice to the United Nations.
Yes, that Michael Waltz. The one who effectively said “Oops, didn’t mean to include the press in our war plans.” The one under intense scrutiny for turning secure communications into a glorified WhatsApp disaster. That guy? He’s now going to explain U.S. diplomacy to the world.
Naturally, Trump broke the news in a statement posted to his own bespoke social media echo chamber, where irony goes to die:
“From his time in uniform on the battlefield, in Congress and, as my National Security Advisor, Mike Waltz has worked hard to put our Nation’s Interests first.”
Apparently, forwarding national security secrets to a reporter now qualifies as “putting our Nation’s Interests first.” Who knew?
But don’t worry — while Waltz packs for Turtle Bay, Secretary of State Marco Rubio will be moonlighting as interim National Security Adviser, because hey, what’s a little nuclear diplomacy between golf rounds? This administration is nothing if not committed to stacking critical roles like a Jenga tower made of ego and chaos.
Trump ended his post with the usual action-movie tagline:
“Together, we will continue to fight tirelessly to Make America, and the World, SAFE AGAIN.”
Ah yes — by appointing the guy who leaked strike plans to a journalist and the senator whose foreign policy plan is mostly aggressive shrugging.
In response to his totally-not-a-reward-for-failing appointment, Waltz tweeted:
“I’m deeply honored to continue my service to President Trump and our great nation.”
Because nothing says honor like almost triggering a diplomatic incident by clicking the wrong contact.
Of course, Waltz still needs to face Senate confirmation, where one can only hope someone — maybe even one with a backbone — will ask the obvious:
“How do you plan to navigate high-level diplomacy when Signal still baffles you?”
But if recent history is any guide, expect a few grandstanding speeches, a couple performative grumbles, and then a 51-49 vote to send the man who thought Signal was a group text party to go chat with Russia, China, and the rest of the world.
Because in America 2025, failing upward is the new patriotism.
FLOSSI SEES THE GILDED SELF-GAZER
A person who not only commissions but adores a gold bust of themselves is best described as a Gilded Self-Gazer — a rare but luminous specimen of homo vanitas.
Such an individual may be observed in their natural habitat:
• Admiring their reflection in the gleam of 24-karat cheekbones.
• Hosting candlelit unveilings of their own likeness for bemused dinner guests.
• Casually noting, “It doesn’t quite capture my aura, but it will do.”
They are part sculptor, part shrine-builder, part public relations department, and entirely convinced that their profile — preferably in gold — belongs alongside the Caesars, Napoleons, and action figures of history.
HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT
THE BINDER DOCTRINE:
Whitmer’s Surprise Cameo in Trump’s Oval Office Reality Show
In a moment sure to be archived under “Nope, not today”, Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer inadvertently pioneered a new political survival tactic: The Binder Shield—the ancient art of blocking your face with office supplies when caught in the wilds of an unscheduled Oval Office press conference.
The presumed 2028 presidential hopeful had come to D.C. to talk about boring, important things like Michigan’s ice storms and tariffs. But before she could say “Great Lakes,” she was whisked into the Trump Show, Season ∞, Episode “Let’s Sign Some Orders and Blame the Deep State.”
There she stood—“glumly,” as the New York Times kindly put it—while the former president monologued like a man who thinks executive orders are collectible baseball cards. Cameras flashed. Whitmer flinched. Then came the moment: face half-obscured by binders, she stared into the middle distance like someone stuck in an elevator with a karaoke machine playing YMCA on loop.
Her team moved faster than a campaign intern at free pizza hour. “The governor was surprised to be brought into the Oval Office without notice,” her spokesperson told CNN, “and her presence is not an endorsement of… well, any of it.”
Trump, of course, took the chance to praise Whitmer as a “very good person” and a “great governor” from the “great state of Michigan.” This is interesting, considering just a few years ago, he publicly lambasted her as “that woman” who dared to blame the federal government during a pandemic—and who was later the target of a literal kidnapping plot by people who took his rhetoric a little too seriously.
Speaking later at a college in Michigan, Whitmer offered a polite-but-pointed “hard pass” on the whole ordeal. “Not my scene, not my script, not where I wanted to be,” she said. “But I stayed in the room to advocate for Michigan. That’s the job.”
Meanwhile, critics—primarily online but increasingly meme-equipped—focused less on policy and more on her well-timed Binder Shield technique. One tweet read, “That’s not just a binder; that’s emotional armour.”
PUTIN AGREES 30-DAY HALT ATTACKS ON UKRAINE’S ENERGY GRID, MAYBE
Vladimir Putin has agreed to a limited ceasefire that would stop Russia from targeting Ukraine’s energy infrastructure after a high-stakes phone call with Donald Trump.
However, the Russian leader declined to commit to a 30-day complete ceasefire, a plan Trump pitched that Ukraine agreed to last week.
This dented the US president’s hope of quickly ending hostilities. The Kremlin said Putin demanded that the West halt all military aid to Kyiv before it could implement such a plan.
Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, spoke after the call. He said Ukraine was favourable to both sides halting attacks on each other’s infrastructure, but he was waiting for “details” of what had been agreed upon first.
Trump interpreted the discussion positively, writing on his Truth Social platform shortly after the call ended that he had had a “very good and productive” conversation with Putin.
“We agreed to an immediate Ceasefire on all Energy and Infrastructure, with an understanding that we will be working quickly to have a Complete Ceasefire and, ultimately, an END to this very horrible War between Russia and Ukraine,” he added.
HERE COMES THE JUDGE
There have been instances in U.S. history where a president has defied or ignored a federal judge's ruling.
Andrew Jackson (1832) – Ignored Supreme Court in Worcester v. Georgia
What Happened? The Supreme Court ruled in Worcester v. Georgia (1832) that the state of Georgia could not impose its laws on Cherokee territory.
Jackson’s Response: He reportedly said, “John Marshall has made his decision; now let him enforce it.”
Impact: Jackson refused to enforce the ruling, leading to the forced removal of Native Americans, culminating in the Trail of Tears.
Abraham Lincoln (1861) – Ignored Habeas Corpus Order
What Happened? During the Civil War, Lincoln suspended habeas corpus (the right to appear before a judge) to arrest suspected Confederate sympathizers.
Chief Justice Roger Taney’s Ruling: In Ex parte Merryman (1861), Taney ruled that only Congress, not the president, could suspend habeas corpus.
Lincoln’s Response: He ignored the ruling and continued suspending habeas corpus.
Franklin D. Roosevelt (1942) – Japanese American Internment
What Happened? FDR signed Executive Order 9066, forcing Japanese Americans into internment camps during World War II.
Legal Challenge: Federal courts upheld the order at the time (Korematsu v. United States, 1944), but later rulings criticized the decision.
Impact: The order was seen as unconstitutional, but it wasn’t defied in the traditional sense.
Dwight Eisenhower (1957) – Defied a State Judge, Enforced Federal Law
What Happened? After the Supreme Court’s ruling in Brown v. Board of Education (1954), Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus used the National Guard to block Black students from entering Little Rock Central High School.
State vs. Federal Conflict: A federal judge ordered desegregation, but Faubus ignored it.
Eisenhower’s Response: He overruled the state judge and sent federal troops to enforce school desegregation.
Richard Nixon (1974) – Refused to Hand Over Watergate Tapes
What Happened? During the Watergate Scandal, a federal judge ordered Nixon to hand over White House tapes.
Supreme Court Ruling: In United States v. Nixon (1974), the Court unanimously ruled that Nixon must comply.
Nixon’s Response: He delayed but eventually complied before resigning.
Donald Trump (Multiple Cases)
Travel Ban (2017): Federal judges blocked Trump’s travel ban, but his administration continued fighting in court until the Supreme Court upheld a revised version.
Jan. 6 Records (2021-2022): Trump sought to withhold White House documents from Congress, but courts ruled against him.
Gag Orders (2023-2024): Some judges issued gag orders on Trump in legal proceedings, which he openly criticized and sometimes violated.
FLOSSI & THE STATE OF DISUNION
The first State of the Union address was delivered by President George Washington on January 8, 1790, in New York City, which was then the capital of the United States.
Key Facts About the First State of the Union Address:
Location: Federal Hall in New York City.
Audience: The First Congress of the United States.
Length: 1,089 words—one of the shortest in history.
Main Topics:
The strength and unity of the young nation.
The need to establish a national defense.
The importance of promoting science, industry, and agriculture.
Encouraging citizen participation in government.
Unlike today, Washington delivered the address in person, but later presidents (starting with Thomas Jefferson in 1801) sent it as a written report to Congress. The tradition of delivering it as a speech in person was revived by Woodrow Wilson in 1913 and continues today.
FLOSSI: AU REVOIR, FOR NOW
Throughout history, some nations have chosen to withdraw from specific alliances, but it's rare for a country to completely disengage from all international partnerships.
Moldova's Withdrawal from the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS): In recent years, Moldova has taken steps to distance itself from the CIS, a regional organization of former Soviet Republics. By December 2023, it announced its intention to withdraw fully from the CIS by the end of 2024.
Armenia's Suspension of Participation in the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO): In February 2024, Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan declared that Armenia had "frozen" its participation in the CSTO, a military alliance led by Russia. By December 2024, Pashinyan stated that Armenia considered itself "outside the CSTO" and had "crossed the point of no return" regarding its membership.
Mexico's Withdrawal from the Inter-American Treaty of Reciprocal Assistance (TIAR): In 2002, Mexico formally withdrew from the TIAR, also known as the "Rio Treaty," which was a mutual defense pact among countries in the Americas. Mexico cited the treaty's ineffectiveness, particularly highlighted during the Falklands War in 1982, as a reason for its withdrawal.
FLOSSI GIVES A LIFT TO THE VP
The chairlift was invented by James Curran, an American engineer, in 1936. He designed it while working for the Union Pacific Railroad as part of their efforts to develop the Sun Valley Ski Resort in Idaho.
Curran was an engineer at the Union Pacific Railroad, which was looking for ways to attract tourists to Sun Valley, Idaho.
He specialized in mechanical transport systems and was inspired by banana conveyor systems used in loading cargo onto ships.
Curran adapted conveyor technology to create a lift system that could transport skiers up a mountain.
Unlike earlier rope tows and cable cars, his design allowed skiers to sit in a moving chair while transported uphill.
This made skiing more accessible, safer, and faster, revolutionizing winter sports tourism.
The first chairlifts were installed in 1936 at Sun Valley Resort, Idaho, making it the first ski area in the world to have a functioning chairlift.
It immediately boosted the popularity of skiing, influencing ski resort development worldwide.
The chairlift allowed ski resorts to expand, leading to mass adoption of skiing as a recreational sport.
Today, modern chairlifts use high-speed detachable systems, heated seats, and enclosed bubbles for added comfort.
SLAVA UKRAINI, FLOSSI & THE DOG’S BREAKFAST
SLAVA UKRAINI
Several significant diplomatic failures have reshaped the world.
The Congress of Prague (1813): In 1813, the Congress of Prague convened to negotiate peace during the Napoleonic Wars. However, the negotiations failed, leading to the resumption of hostilities and the eventual downfall of Napoleon's empire.
The Congress of Berlin (1878): Aiming to address the "Eastern Question" and stabilize the Balkans, the Congress of Berlin redrew national boundaries without adequately considering ethnic and political complexities. This oversight sowed seeds of future conflicts in the region.
The Crimean War (1853–1856): Diplomatic tensions among European powers over the decline of the Ottoman Empire and religious rights in the Holy Land culminated in the Crimean War. The inability to resolve disputes through diplomacy resulted in a costly and deadly conflict.
The Failure of the League of Nations (1920s–1930s): Established after World War I to maintain global peace, the League of Nations struggled with enforcement and unity. Its inability to prevent aggressive actions by nations like Japan, Italy, and Germany highlighted its weaknesses and contributed to the onset of World War II.
The Munich Agreement (1938): In an attempt to avoid war, British and French leaders agreed to Germany's annexation of the Sudetenland from Czechoslovakia. This policy of appeasement failed to prevent further aggression, emboldening Hitler's expansionist ambitions.
The Bay of Pigs Invasion (1961): The U.S.-backed attempt to overthrow Fidel Castro's government in Cuba failed disastrously. The incident embarrassed the U.S. government and strained international relations during the Cold War.
The Invasion of Iraq (2003): Based on false assertions about weapons of mass destruction, the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people, diminished U.S. credibility, and created regional instability that persists to this day.
FLOSSI: 21st CENTURY GOLD RUSH
Many countries offer Citizenship by Investment (CBI) programs or Golden Visas, allowing individuals to obtain citizenship or residency in exchange for a significant financial investment. These programs often attract wealthy individuals, entrepreneurs, and investors.
Citizenship by Investment (CBI) Programs
These programs grant direct citizenship in exchange for investments such as:
Government donations
Real estate purchases
Business investments
Job creation in the country
Countries Offering Citizenship by Investment
Caribbean Nations:
St. Kitts & Nevis 🇰🇳 – $250,000+ donation or $400,000 real estate
Dominica 🇩🇲 – $100,000+ donation
Antigua & Barbuda 🇦🇬 – $100,000+ donation
Grenada 🇬🇩 – $150,000+ donation
Saint Lucia 🇱🇨 – $100,000+ donation
Europe:
Malta 🇲🇹 – ~$750,000 donation + investment
Austria 🇦🇹 – ~$3-10 million investment (strict vetting)
Turkey 🇹🇷 – $400,000 real estate purchase
Middle East & Asia:
Jordan 🇯🇴 – $1 million investment
Egypt 🇪🇬 – $250,000+ donation
Vanuatu 🇻🇺 – $130,000+ donation
Golden Visas (Residency by Investment)
These programs offer residency permits (not citizenship) but can lead to citizenship after several years.
Notable Golden Visa Programs
Europe:
Portugal 🇵🇹 – €280,000+ real estate or business investment (ending in 2024)
Spain 🇪🇸 – €500,000+ real estate investment
Greece 🇬🇷 – €250,000+ real estate investment
Italy 🇮🇹 – €250,000+ investment
United Arab Emirates (UAE):
Dubai Golden Visa – $550,000+ property investment
United States (EB-5 Visa):
$800,000+ investment in a job-creating enterprise
FLOSSI’S SURGICAL STRIKE
The chainsaw was invented in the late 18th century for medical purposes—not for cutting wood! It was designed as a surgical tool for cutting bone, particularly during childbirth.
The First Chainsaw (1780s) – Surgical Use
Inventors: John Aitken and James Jeffray, Scottish doctors.
Purpose: It was created to assist in symphysiotomies, a medical procedure used to widen the pelvis during childbirth when a baby was stuck.
Design: It looked more like a modern-day bone saw—a small, hand-cranked chain with fine teeth.
The First Chainsaw for Wood (1920s)
Inventor: Andreas Stihl, a German engineer, is credited with developing the first gasoline-powered chainsaw in 1929.
Purpose: Stihl’s design was intended for logging and forestry work.
Impact: This innovation revolutionized the timber industry, making tree cutting faster and more efficient.
Stihl’s company, STIHL, remains one of the top chainsaw manufacturers today.
Evolution of the Modern Chainsaw
1926: Andreas Stihl patents the first electric chainsaw.
1929: Stihl develops the first gas-powered chainsaw.
1930s–1950s: Early chainsaws were huge and required two people to operate.
1960s: Lighter, one-man chainsaws were introduced, leading to the modern chainsaw design.
FLOSSI: THE PRESIDENTIAL KISS TEST
The tradition of kissing the ring of a sovereign or high-ranking leader dates back to ancient civilizations and was used as a gesture of respect, submission, or fealty. Historically, it has been particularly prominent in royal courts, religious institutions, and nobility.
Ancient Civilizations: A Symbol of Submission
In the Persian Empire (c. 500 BCE) under the Achaemenid dynasty, subjects were required to prostrate themselves (proskynesis) and sometimes kiss the hand or ring of the emperor to show absolute loyalty.
Ancient Rome (c. 100 BCE—400 CE): Roman senators and officials kissed the emperor's ring as a sign of political allegiance. Julius Caesar and later emperors used rings to seal documents, reinforcing their divine authority.
Medieval Europe: Fealty and Divine Right
By the Middle Ages (500–1500 CE), the practice became standard in European monarchies. Kings and emperors often wore signet rings that symbolized their divine right to rule.
Nobles and clergy were expected to kiss the monarch's ring when swearing oaths of loyalty or vassalage.
The Holy Roman Emperors (800–1806 CE) and the French and English kings maintained this tradition to reinforce hierarchical order and submission.
The Catholic Church: The Papal Ring Tradition
The Pope’s Fisherman’s Ring is perhaps the most famous religious adaptation of this practice.
Since at least the 9th century, Catholic believers and clergy have kissed the Pope’s ring as a sign of obedience and respect for his authority as the successor of Saint Peter.
Cardinals and bishops also received ring-kisses as a gesture of recognition of their spiritual status.
Renaissance and Beyond: Political & Diplomatic Custom
During the Renaissance (15th–17th centuries), ambassadors and dignitaries often kissed the ring of foreign rulers during diplomatic visits as a sign of goodwill.
Even in France under Louis XIV (the Sun King), courtiers performed this ritual to demonstrate their place in the monarchy’s hierarchy.
Decline in Modern Times
By the 19th and 20th centuries, the practice of kissing a monarch's ring gradually disappeared in secular governments.
However, it still persists in religious circles, particularly in Catholic, Orthodox, and some Islamic traditions.
In Britain, formal bowing and hand-kissing were once common, but Queen Elizabeth II discouraged ring-kissing, preferring a simple bow or handshake.