In the dimly lit corridors of gleaming power—where words drip like oil and promises twist like barbed wire—the great swine in charge of markets and militarism, the capricious overseers of spectacle, have unveiled their latest farce: a plan to slap a Titanic, bludgeoning 100 percent tariff on semiconductors imported from across the Pacific. These chips—those chips, mind you—are the “steel of the modern age,” a phrase so ludicrously heralded it rings hollow from their lips.