Dwain Northey (Gen X)

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

From the Desk of Baby Trump, Self-Proclaimed Economic Genius

“Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for has arrived. After months of whining, stomping my feet, and tweeting like a caffeinated toddler, I have forced the big, bad Federal Reserve to bend the knee. That’s right—interest rates are going down, down, down. And do you know why? Because I am the most powerful negotiator in history. Nobody threatens like me, nobody intimidates like me. Jerome Powell? He used to have a spine. Now he fetches my golf balls at Mar-a-Lago.”

That’s the narrative, anyway. The reality? This so-called “victory” is about as hollow as one of Trump’s casinos after bankruptcy. Interest rate cuts don’t mean the economy is strong—they mean the exact opposite. Rates drop when growth is slowing, when confidence is wobbling, and when central bankers are looking around at the flaming wreckage saying, “We’d better soften the crash.”

But Baby Trump, ever the marketing genius, will sell this as evidence of his unmatched brilliance. “See? Look at the low rates! The economy is thriving!” Except, of course, low rates are life support, not a celebration. It’s like bragging about getting a cast after breaking your leg: you’re not healthier, you’re injured.

And make no mistake, the injury is self-inflicted. Trade wars started on a whim, tariffs slapped around like cheap bumper stickers, supply chains strangled, markets rattled daily by presidential mood swings—it’s a wonder the global economy hasn’t filed for a restraining order. Businesses can’t plan, investors can’t trust, and consumers are tightening their wallets because who knows what tantrum tomorrow will bring.

So the Fed cuts rates. Not to celebrate, but to stabilize. Not because Trump “won,” but because his chaos has weakened the system. And yet here he is, parading around, chest puffed out, telling the world he scared the big bankers into submission. Never mind that retirees are punished with lower savings returns. Never mind that cheap borrowing doesn’t equal prosperity if no one has faith in the future. Never mind that this is a blinking neon sign that the economy is fragile.

But Baby Trump doesn’t deal in reality—he deals in optics. If he can declare victory loud enough, his base will cheer and the headlines will spin. “Strongest economy ever!” he’ll tweet, while the very mechanics of monetary policy are screaming, Danger ahead.

So yes, Trump has gotten his way. He bullied, he threatened, he threw his toys across the room until the adults sighed and gave in. But let’s not confuse capitulation with leadership. Lower interest rates don’t mean America is winning—they mean Trump broke the system badly enough that it needed a crutch. And, like every other time in his life, he’ll strut around the ruins pretending he built them.