A full year into the second advent of the Gilded Grifter, and the American public has discovered, with the slow-blink realization of a lobotomized sheep, that putting a gold-plated lid on a boiling pot of economic sewage does not, in fact, stop the smell. The latest batch of ‘man-on-the-street’ interviews reveals that the US economy is experiencing what the media politely calls 'mixed progress.' This is the journalistic equivalent of saying a house fire is 'partially successful' because the chimney is still standing. We are treated to the spectacle of six average citizens attempting to articulate their disappointment, as if their collective ignorance of macroeconomics constitutes a meaningful data set. It is a pathetic display of the human tendency to seek a savior in a man who views the working class as nothing more than a convenient staircase to his next vanity project.

Let us begin with the 'hiring woes.' The right-wing narrative suggested that the mere presence of a loud-mouthed protectionist in the Oval Office would spontaneously generate millions of high-paying jobs, presumably through the sheer force of his own spray-tan. Instead, we have a labor market that resembles a game of musical chairs played in a minefield. Employers are screaming about a lack of 'qualified' candidates—a euphemism for people willing to sacrifice their dignity for a wage that doesn't cover a studio apartment—while the workforce remains trapped in a cycle of gig-economy purgatory. The Right blames 'laziness' and the remnants of a welfare state that barely exists, while the Left performs its usual interpretive dance of grievance, lamenting the lack of DEI initiatives in the unemployment line. Neither side seems to grasp that the very structure of the modern economy is designed to extract value from the bottom and deposit it into the off-shore accounts of the top 0.1%. Trump isn't fixing the system; he is the system’s most garish mascot.

Then there are the 'super high' prices. The shock and awe with which the American consumer views the cost of a carton of eggs would be comical if it weren't so profoundly stupid. These are the same people who cheered for tariffs, oblivious to the fact that a tax on imports is, by definition, a tax on the consumer. You cannot scream 'America First' and then act surprised when the price of your Chinese-made toaster triples. The MAGA faithful expected the laws of supply and demand to be suspended by executive order, while the Progressive wing remains convinced that if we just tax billionaires enough, the price of avocados will magically drop. It is a symphony of delusion. Inflation is not a dial that a President turns at his leisure; it is the inevitable hangover following a decade of cheap credit and the reckless printing of fiat currency to fund forever wars and corporate bailouts. But explaining that to a voter is like trying to explain Tchaikovsky to a golden retriever.

One year in, and the 'mixed' reviews are simply a reflection of the fact that the circus has stayed in town, but the popcorn has become prohibitively expensive. The 'six Americans' cited in these reports represent the quintessential tragedy of the electorate: they believe that the person sitting in the White House actually cares about the balance of their checking accounts. They oscillate between hope and resentment, never once stopping to consider that they are being played by a bipartisan machine that thrives on their perpetual dissatisfaction. The Right offers them a scapegoat in the form of immigrants and 'woke' bureaucrats; the Left offers them a hollow promise of equity while the gap between the ruling class and the peasantry widens into a canyon.

Trump’s economic policy, such as it is, remains a chaotic blend of protectionist theater and deregulation that favors the very industries currently gouging the public. It is a masterclass in the 'Sunk Cost' fallacy. Having invested their identities into the cult of the Strongman, voters are now forced to rationalize why they are still struggling to pay for gasoline. They call it 'mixed progress' because to admit the truth—that they have been conned by a man who wouldn't let them sit at his dinner table—would be too much for their fragile egos to bear. The economy isn't 'mixed'; it is a predatory machine working exactly as intended, regardless of which geriatric egomaniac is currently occupying the master bedroom of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. We are all just fuel for the fire, and the fire is burning bright.