In a week where Donald Trump:

• While sitting next to the Japanese Prime Minister, answered a question from a Japanese reporter about why the US had not informed Japan — one of its closest allies — about the plan to attack Iran by saying: “We went in very hard and we didn’t tell anybody about it because we wanted surprise. Who knows better about surprise than Japan?”
• Used images of the “distinguished transfer” of US service members to fundraise.

Where Pete Hegseth:

• Exploited the grief of a family whose loved one died in Iran by putting words in their mouth — claiming they urged him to “finish the job,” a quote at least one bereaved father flatly denied ever saying.
• Declared the US was fighting religious extremism in Iran — apparently without a hint of self-awareness about his own “Deus Vult” tattoo (“God wills it,” the rallying cry of the Crusades), his monthly Pentagon worship services, his Bible-verse military videos, or his stated belief that America is a Christian nation.

When Pam Bondi and the DOJ:

• Moved to dismiss the remaining federal charges with prejudice against two former officers — Joshua Jaynes and Kyle Meany — who had provided false information in the search warrant used to raid Breonna Taylor’s apartment, resulting in her death.
• She, as the chief law enforcement officer of the US, refused to commit to honoring a subpoena on the Epstein File.
• Had a prosecutor thrown out of court by U.S. District Judge Zahid Quraishi, who was castigating the office for operating illegally — after the prosecutor repeatedly ignored his direct orders to stop talking.

I could go on, but you lived through this week too — and bitching about the abuses of Trump and his cadre of calamity is a more target-rich environment than Kharg Island. For some reason this week had me particularly worked up, which is why I found myself in a lengthy DM exchange with my friend Morgan, who is far calmer about these things than me. I was hoping the bitching would have a cathartic effect — enough to let me enter the weekend with my chi intact.

After patiently wading through my DMs and aerobic thumb exercises, they responded simply, saying “Don’t worry my friend, Karma will get them in the end.” And then, quickly and probably wisely, added “GTG.”

Which left me hanging, and led to me lacing up my sneakers and heading out for a walk — because when you’re trying to exorcise the week’s demons, thumb therapy just isn’t enough.

Our neighborhood is beautiful. It sits in the shadow of Pedra da Gávea — a massive granite monolith rising 2,769 feet above sea level, whose homes do little to displace the rainforest in which it was built. It delivers on all fronts — tamarins swinging overhead, morpho butterflies the color of a swimming pool, toucans watching you from the canopy like bouncers, and everywhere orchids, heliconia, and jacaranda doing their best to remind you that the world is still beautiful despite everything.

Sadly, none of this distracted me enough to move beyond Morgan’s karma comment. Because I don’t believe in Karma.

I mean, it is a lovely idea, but to me it is no more than a lovely fairy tale that people invoke when they want to feel good about the awful things people are doing. The idea that the universe will even the score or punish people for their lack of decency does not make sense to me. First, it assumes that the universe seeks justice — and that is too great an assumption for me. Not only do we not know whether the universe seeks justice, we have no idea of its true nature. For all we know, we are just a petty amusement, and the universe delights in our misfortune. Man plans and the universe giggles hysterically. I won’t even get into the math (two trillion galaxies, averaging 100 billion stars each) and how unlikely it is that the universe would pay attention to us at any given moment, let alone settle the score.

However, I do believe that you reap what you sow — that if you offer kindness, respect, and decency to the world, it stands a good chance of being reciprocated. When you are down, suffering, or in need of a helping hand, those you have shared those gifts with will return them. Conversely, if you disrespect people, think empathy is a made-up emotion, or take whatever you want without regard to its impact on others, there is a good chance it will come back to bite you squarely on your ass. When you need a helping hand, it is far more likely it will not be offered.

And maybe, just maybe, this week was an example of that.

• Having spent years denigrating, belittling, and reviling NATO, the Bloviator-in-Chief turned to the alliance this week to help keep the Strait of Hormuz open. NATO’s response was, diplomatically speaking, a magnificent collective raspberry.
• When Senator Markwayne Mullin, the poster boy for anger management and toxic masculinity, appeared before the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee, he had to face its chairman, Senator Rand Paul — a man he had called a snake and whose neighbor’s felonious assault on Paul he had publicly said he understood. The dressing down was epic and ended with Paul saying “I just wonder if someone who applauds violence against their political opponents is the right person to lead an agency that has struggled to accept limits to the proper use of force.” (He was saved by Fetterman, but there is little doubt he will reap what he sowed, sooner or later.)
• The Powell Boomerang — Trump has spent months trying to get rid of Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell. Instead of pushing him out, the DOJ’s criminal investigation could end up extending Powell’s time at the top of the central bank even after his term formally ends in May. The move could delay rate cuts, fuel Wall Street jitters, and make it harder for Trump to replace Powell with a loyalist — with Sen. Tillis vowing to block any Fed nominee until the legal questions are resolved.

The walk helped. And just as I reached home, a Blue Morpho butterfly landed on a bright yellow orchid near our gate. It was a rough week — but that butterfly was a sign of hope, and I can live with that.