Hong Kong
I am writing this from a hotel room twenty-odd floors above Victoria Harbour, in a city that feels electric and vital and wild. You cannot imagine its scale. The skyline has over 900 skyscrapers, and feels almost unreal.
Money crackles in the air. For MAGAe obsessed with screaming about the CCP, it strikes me that a city with 5 Louis Vuittons and a crackling entrepreneurial culture is hardly a commie hellscape. Part of that is that Hong Kong is still a Special Administration Region. I’m here for a speech and a conference, with the beautiful Renee along for the adventure.
It’s been a busy few days, as you can imagine, but poking my head back into the world 13 times zones aways was a shock. The world is off the damn rails.
My tolerance for crazy is calibrated on a logarithmic scale most people never have to use.
This week seemed determined to break the upper boundary of the scale. This morning, catching up on news I joked with Renee that all that’s missing is the death of Archduke Ferdinand.
