Ugh du Jour, with (not free) Queso

I’m sure I dove into this “Trump’s tariffs are killing free chips & salsa at Mexican restaurants” article assuming I’d knock out some super-smarmy joke about the administration’s needlessly cruel immigration policy & the stupidity of the very people most vociferously cheering it on against their own financial interests and in a lot of cases their very livelihood in such a heroically hilarious manner that would result in a lot of “Xmastime once again shows why he is the voice of his generation , and EVERY generation!” headlines both here & around the planet, and it was going fairly according to plan as I breezily skimmed through it, cackling to myself with glee about what I’d be cooking up (yes, Juego de palabras intencionado) with shit like this:

Part of the appeal of the neighborhood Americanized Mexican restaurant has long been that it offers a particularly accessible kind of abundance. You can order an inexpensive combination plate and a soda, eat something hot and filling and deeply flavorful, and be out the door in 45 minutes without anybody making you feel strange about any of it.

But then, just as I was about to stop cackling & start typing, I landed on this:

Everybody gets to start with something.

That hits the gut like a ton of bricks. It’s a way of life we should all be adopting as human beings, that there’s a seat for everyone at the table and nobody eats unless we all eat. Instead, we’re now at risk of losing (let’s be honest, once these things go from being free to being non-free they never go back to being free, and we know this) this living credo of love & community at the table because we’ve chosen our absolute worst human being to be the leader of the free world, and his policies that have directly lead to this possible ending of free chips & salsa at that Mexican restaurant you love are the same ones being used to disrupt & destroy as many of the lives who have brought free chips & salsa to our tables in the first place. Pitiful.