How are oil prices and gas prices in the U.S. right now?
$76 per barrel for WTI crude oil and $4.04 per gallon for the national average regular gasoline.
The news has been so confusing— especially when partisan politics in the news overtake facts!
So, here are the facts— and as always, you should check them yourself.
Trust, but verify.
Right now prices are around $76 per barrel for WTI crude oil and $4.04 per gallon for the national average regular gasoline (as of late June 2026).
Here is where we’ve been:
Oil & Gas Price Comparison: Highest Prices by Period
Under Biden (2021 – January 20, 2025)
Both crude oil and gasoline reached their highest levels of the period in 2022.
• Highest WTI Crude Oil: $123 per barrel (March 8, 2022)
• Highest U.S. National Average Regular Gasoline: $5.01 per gallon (June 14, 2022)
These peaks were driven primarily by the Russia-Ukraine war and resulting global supply disruptions.
Under Trump – Current Term So Far (January 20, 2025 – Present)
Prices spiked again in mid-2025 amid renewed geopolitical tensions.
• Highest WTI Crude Oil: $115 per barrel (June 23, 2025)
• Highest U.S. National Average Regular Gasoline: $4.54 per gallon (June 23, 2025)
Current Levels (as of June 24, 2026)
Prices have moderated since the 2025 spike.
• Current WTI Crude Oil: $76 per barrel
• Current U.S.
National Average Regular Gasoline: $4.04 per gallon
Oil and gasoline prices reached their highest points during the Biden administration in 2022.
There was another notable spike in June 2025 during the current Trump term.
Levels as of late June 2026 are significantly lower than both previous peaks — down roughly 38% for oil and 19% for gasoline from the Biden-era highs.
No speculation— no partisan politics— just the facts.
Where would you send your ships if you were in charge?
Right now, roughly 170–180 oil and gas-related vessels are still working their way out of the Persian Gulf backlog created during the recent fighting. Most analysts expect the backlog to be largely cleared by early to mid-July if the ceasefire holds.
The shooting may have stopped, but that doesn’t mean everything is back to normal.
Because if you owned a billion-dollar tanker and thought the fighting might start again next week, would you rush into the area?
The Strait of Hormuz is open again, but ship owners, insurers, and crews are still asking:
“Are we sure this is over?”
Until they believe the answer is yes, traffic will likely stay below normal.
The road may be open, but people are still driving cautiously.
So if you’re a tanker company looking for a safer place to load up on oil and gas, where do you think you’ll send your ships instead?
What do you think?
I don’t think this MOU with Iran and the US is going to accomplish anything other than letting the trapped ships escape from the Persian Gulf, and allow them to end up doing business in the Gulf of America. But I do think it illustrates something that has been building slowly during this entire conflict. I believe that President Pezeshkian— who I posted about back in early March— it’s going to become the relevant player in managing Iran, which is a bit counterintuitive—unless you look at the speculatively plausible dynamics going behind the scenes.
You can see that President Pezeshkian doesn’t look very happy signing the MOU, because I think he knows it’s going to fail— but it is important that HE is the one signing it.
He signed it.
I think President Pezeshkian is going to be the new interface for Iran with the rest of the world, and though I’m sure he will be betrayed by the US or any other powers that interact with, I think he will be an important intermediary following the failure of the MOU.
From back in March:
“Is This Man Iran’s — and the West’s — Next Great Hope?
In the current chaos of regional conflict, Iran presents a fractured image to the world.
Amidst the consolidation of power by a new, more entrenched Supreme Leader, one figure remains a paradox:
Masoud Pezeshkian.
His presence at the apex of a state in turmoil begs a crucial question: is he a mere figurehead, or a latent, vital hope for a different path?
Pezeshkian’s biography is a deliberate counterpoint to the typical Iranian elite. A cardiac surgeon, he carries the credibility of a healer, a man of science rather than ideology. He served on the front lines during the Iran-Iraq War, giving him a soldier’s understanding of sacrifice. His heritage—Azeri and Kurdish—positions him as a unique anomaly within a Persian-dominated clerical class. This mosaic—physician, veteran, Kurd, Azeri—makes him an essential, if constrained, player.
With the appointment of Mojtaba Khamenei as Supreme Leader, Pezeshkian’s role has shifted to that of a public endorser of a harder-line succession. He serves as the “civilian face” of a regime increasingly driven by security imperatives, acting as a lightning rod for scrutiny and discontent. Yet, to dismiss him is to overlook the tectonic shifts occurring in the region.
Central to this dynamic is the blossoming “Kurdish corridor.” Stretching from the Zagros Mountains toward Armenia and Azerbaijan, and connecting eastward to the Caspian Sea and westward toward the Mediterranean and Israel, this geography is becoming a pivotal nexus. The Kurdish people, a powerful demographic with established influence, now represent a strategic regional element. They are not merely actors in a localized rebellion; they are a bridge. With their boots on the ground and their historical ties to the West, the Kurds represent a transformative variable in the regional map—a talented, long-persecuted minority now occupying a critical crossroads at a pivotal time.
Pezeshkian, by virtue of his Kurdish roots, is inextricably linked to this demographic power. He stands at the intersection of a state in decline and a regional connectivity project that could reshape Eurasia’s economic and political landscape.
Pezeshkian remains a symbol. He reminds us that within the intractable complexities of Iranian politics, there are threads of pragmatism and diversity that persist. The “chips” are indeed falling, but among them is a path—one where human agency, ethnic bridging, and regional connectivity might eventually supersede the current cycle of destruction.
While the road ahead is fraught with immense danger, the possibility remains that the future of the region will be defined not by the walls that divide it, but by the corridors that seek, however tentatively, to connect it.
Hope, in such times, is not a naive delusion; it is a strategic choice to look toward the horizon.”
May the good guys always win.
Why are oil ships heading to America?
And is the Iran/U.S. Peace Deal actually going to work this time?
I think you already know the answer to both of those questions.
In February 2026, the United States and Israel struck Iran. Iran responded by closing the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow passage that carries a large share of the world’s oil. The fighting and attacks made it too dangerous for ships to pass, trapping hundreds of oil tankers and cargo ships inside the Persian Gulf along with thousands of sailors.
When the U.S. and Iran later agreed to a ceasefire and began peace talks, some of the trapped ships were finally allowed to leave. The exits have been slow and limited, with help from the U.S. Navy. At the same time, a growing number of tankers have begun looking to alternative loading points, including the Gulf of America, to reduce exposure to future disruptions.
This shift is happening for clear reasons. The U.S. wanted to get the trapped ships and crews out safely under the ceasefire. More importantly, energy companies, insurers, traders, and governments are reassessing how much risk they want tied to a route that can be closed whenever conflict returns. The United States produces enormous amounts of oil, has secure ports, and offers a level of predictability that shipping markets value. Sending tankers there reduces both physical and financial risk.
In 2025, the United States officially renamed its portion of the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America. Whether viewed as symbolism, branding, or strategy, the change coincides with America’s growing role as one of the world’s most important energy exporters.
Even if the Strait of Hormuz remains open, the disruption has already changed calculations. Insurers remember. Shipping companies remember. Governments remember. Every closure, attack, or military standoff increases the risk premium attached to the route and creates incentives to diversify supply chains elsewhere.
If hostilities begin again—and I think they will—Iran will likely attempt to threaten or disrupt shipping through the Strait of Hormuz once more. Whether through closure, attack, or the threat of attack, each new crisis reinforces the lesson that dependence on a single vulnerable chokepoint carries significant costs.
The result could be simple: more tankers, more investment, and more long-term energy infrastructure flowing toward regions viewed as safer and more reliable suppliers. While no outcome is guaranteed, the Gulf of America is well positioned to be one of the major beneficiaries of that shift.
In short:
1. Hormuz became dangerous.
2. Ships got trapped.
3. Companies hate risk.
4. America has oil and secure ports.
5. If the danger returns, more ships will look elsewhere.
6. America is one of the most likely beneficiaries.
The way the world moves its energy is already changing. The longer serious peace is delayed in the Persian Gulf, the faster and more permanent that change may become. The Gulf once known primarily as the outlet for Middle Eastern oil is increasingly sharing the stage with another energy center. If current trends continue, that center will likely be the Gulf of America.
May good come of this latest peace deal, however it turns out.
And may the good guys always win.
And Now a Message from Captain Obvious…
Who is benefiting most from the delay in the Iran peace process?
Not who caused it.
Not who is right.
Not who is wrong.
Who benefits?
The United States appears to be the largest strategic beneficiary of a prolonged but controlled period of uncertainty.
Europe has shifted away from Russian energy and toward alternative suppliers, including the United States. American LNG exports to Europe have surged. The U.S. has become a central energy supplier to allies that previously depended far more heavily on Russia.
At the same time, instability in the Persian Gulf and threats to the Strait of Hormuz place pressure not primarily on the United States, but on Asia—especially China, Japan, South Korea, and India, which depend heavily on energy flows through that region.
This creates an interesting incentive structure.
A rapid and durable Iran peace deal would reduce risk premiums, restore confidence in Persian Gulf energy flows, and potentially strengthen Iran’s position in global energy markets.
A prolonged delay, however, keeps uncertainty elevated and encourages the world to continue investing in alternative sources of energy.
If one ignores the politics and simply follows the incentives, a different picture emerges.
The beneficiaries of a world that becomes less dependent on the Persian Gulf include:
• The United States
• Canada
• Guyana
• Brazil
• Australia
• Potentially Venezuela, if political conditions eventually allow broader investment and production
Collectively, these countries possess enormous energy resources and are largely outside the traditional Southwest Asian energy chokepoint system.
In that context, the more interesting question may not be whether peace is delayed.
The more interesting question is whether the world is already beginning a transition toward a new fossil fuel reality.
For decades, global energy security revolved around the Persian Gulf.
Today, an alternative system is emerging:
North American production.
South American production.
Australian LNG.
Atlantic Basin shipping.
Expanded refining and export capacity along the U.S. Gulf Coast.
Viewed through that lens, the delay in the Iran peace process may be less important than the larger structural shift occurring underneath it.
Perhaps the real story is not the peace negotiations themselves.
Perhaps the real story is that the world is gradually building an energy system in which the Persian Gulf is no longer the singular center of gravity it once was.
If that is true, then the biggest winner is not necessarily the side that wins the next negotiation.
It is the side that benefits most from the transition.
May the good guys always win.
The Bezos’ Great Gift to the Children of New York
For decades, New York’s early-childhood programs have been built through recurring grants, public-private partnerships, and annual fundraising campaigns. The new Jackie Bezos Endowment at Robin Hood doesn’t reinvent that system so much as stabilize and consolidate it for the long term during economically and politically uncertain times.
That makes the moment historically significant: A permanent endowment replacing a model that previously depended on continually raising fresh money every year.
The irony, of course, is difficult to ignore. One of the signature successes now associated with Zohran Mamdani’s political moment is being secured not by anti-billionaire rhetoric, but by the generosity of billionaire philanthropy itself.
At the same time, the gift deserves recognition on its own terms.
The funding strengthens programs that have already served vulnerable New York children for decades, adding durability to institutions that were already functioning rather than creating them from scratch.
Thank you, Bezos family.
May the good guys always help, and may the good guys always win.
Why are parents held accountable for the crimes of their children— while judges repeatedly get away with being accessories to myriad crimes?
The asymmetry is straightforward.
Parents face civil and criminal liability when their negligence foreseeably enables a child’s violence.
Courts apply duty, foreseeability, and control. The framework is simple and consistently enforced.
Judges and prosecutors operate under the opposite regime with no comparable justification.
A judge who releases a repeat offender with documented violations, a violent history, and high actuarial risk faces zero legal exposure when that person kills someone the following week.
The parent of a troubled teenager is held to a stricter standard than the state official who had more information, more institutional resources, and made an affirmative decision restoring that person to public access.
The informational argument makes immunity harder to defend, not easier.
Judges and prosecutors routinely have criminal histories, psychological evaluations, recidivism scores, prior plea records, and gang affiliation data.
The “we couldn’t have known” defense collapses when the risk assessment was in the case file.
Judicial immunity exists to prevent judges from being pressured into detaining everyone marginally risky.
That’s a real concern, but it’s an argument for calibrated accountability — not blanket immunity. Every other profession whose decisions carry public risk operates under performance review.
Surgeons, pilots, engineers, and financial advisors all face consequences when their decisions produce statistically abnormal bad outcomes.
The judiciary has exempted itself from a standard it would apply without hesitation to anyone else.
AI-assisted pattern auditing closes the last remaining practical argument for the current system.
A judge whose releases correlate with violent reoffending at rates far above comparable peers is a performance problem, not a philosophical puzzle. The pattern is sufficient grounds for mandatory review, reassignment, or public reporting.
We don’t require metaphysical certainty before intervening in any other professional context. There is no principled reason to require it here.
The immunity gap is institutional self-protection.
As auditing tools improve and the data becomes harder to ignore, the political pressure to justify that protection will increase.
The judiciary will either build accountability mechanisms voluntarily or have cruder ones imposed from outside.
Those are the realistic options.
May we build a better system for the greater good, and may the good guys always win.
Everybody is complaining about judges these days, and it’s usually a partisan person complaining about a partisan judge— we are all such marvelous hypocrites!
Hypocrisy or not, the U.S. judiciary faces a growing credibility problem: Americans increasingly believe judicial outcomes align with the politics of the president who appointed the judge.
Studies have repeatedly found measurable differences between Democratic- and Republican-appointed judges, especially in politically sensitive cases.
Now that we’ve got AI moving into every aspect of our lives—can technology reduce judicial partisanship?
Traditional reforms — ethics rules, term limits, or appointment changes — address symptoms more than measurement itself. Reform becomes difficult when there is no comprehensive system for tracking long-term judicial patterns consistently across the federal bench.
Emerging technology offers solutions.
Blockchain systems could create permanent, tamper-resistant records of judicial decisions, citations, reversals, and case metadata. Artificial intelligence could then analyze those records at scale, comparing judges against neutral benchmarks such as reversal rates, circuit norms, and consistency across similar cases.
The goal would not be to control judicial outcomes, but to identify measurable patterns using the same standards for every judge regardless of ideology.
Supporters argue this could shift judicial oversight from sporadic scandals and confirmation fights toward continuous transparency grounded in data rather than impressions alone.
Critics, however, raise concerns about AI bias, judicial independence, and the risk of turning statistical analysis into political pressure.
Technology alone cannot eliminate ideological disagreement in constitutional law. But it may make systemic patterns easier to measure, debate, and understand — which could make meaningful reform more achievable.
Combined with structural reforms like staggered term limits and enforceable ethics codes, an AI-auditing layer built on blockchain infrastructure represents the most scalable accountability mechanism the judiciary has ever had access to.
The question is whether the political will exists to build it.
May we find the will to do good, and may the good guys always win.
Have you ever heard this used?
There’s a phrase that surfaces reliably in political arguments, usually when someone’s running low on actual ammunition:
“History will judge this person harshly.”
Both sides deploy it. And honestly? It feels satisfying to say it.
There’s something almost liturgical about it — like invoking a higher court that will finally set the record straight.
It’s not simplistically irrational. It’s deeply human.
But it is, philosophically speaking— a cop-out.
It has a name: the “Wrong side of history” fallacy, also called an “Appeal to posterity” or “Appeal to future authority”.
The mechanics are simple: When facts, evidence, and logic start failing you in a debate, you skip ahead to an imaginary verdict — one delivered by future people who conveniently agree with you — and declare victory on their behalf!
The problems with this are numerous and entertaining.
History isn’t a wise, impartial judge quietly keeping score. It’s written by flawed people, often whoever won, and the moral consensus of any given era is less a compass pointing toward truth than a weather vane spinning in the cultural wind.
What one century lionizes, the next condemns — and vice versa.
Betting that your current values represent the inevitable endpoint of moral progress is, to put it gently, a bold assumption.
More practically? The claim is unfalsifiable. You can’t argue with a prophecy. That’s precisely why it’s so tempting — and precisely why it’s so intellectually dishonest.
It doesn’t engage with evidence. It escapes evidence.
So next time you hear it, you can gently note that real arguments are made with what we know now, not with oracles.
History doesn’t judge. People do — and they disagree, endlessly, right up until they don’t anymore!
Which is to say: Never.
May we keep pursuing what is good, and may the good guys always win.
Can you handle the truth? Ilhan Omar corrected herself immediately— and she actually said, “World War 2”.
Watch the video below to the end— it doesn’t clip her words out of context.
The right justifiably objects when Donald Trump is maliciously misquoted or taken out of context—like the “many fine people” line. They shouldn’t turn around and do the same to Ilhan Omar.
She made a simple mistake—and corrected it immediately.
There are many real and serious issues Omar will have to answer for—but that’s a different matter.
This one is about the character of those who claim to value the truth.
Character isn’t defined by pointing out how others treat the truth—it’s revealed by how we treat the truth ourselves.
May truth prevail, and may the good guys always win.
A lot is happening simultaneously. In realpolitik terms, these events are not proven to be coordinated—but they are tightly time-clustered (Apr 24–28, 2026) and all load the same system: Hormuz disruption → energy shock → alliance stress → leverage plays.
Chronological Flow:
• Apr 24 — U.S. internal (leaked) Pentagon email: review of support for European “imperial possessions,” incl. Falklands/Malvinas → signal of leverage against under-aligned allies.
• Apr 27 (AM) — Friedrich Merz: Iran “humiliating” U.S. diplomatically; Islamabad track stalled; envoy trip canceled.
• Apr 27–28 — King Charles III + Camilla at White House → optics: UK–US strain meets damage-control diplomacy.
• Apr 28 — United Arab Emirates exits OPEC/OPEC+ (effective May 1) → cartel cohesion breaks under stress.
The pattern begins to reveal itself when placed in order:
• Hormuz: ~20% of global oil/LNG transits → disruption = immediate price/insurance shock.
• EU energy shift: ~$750B U.S. LNG/nuclear/gas framework (≈**$250B/yr** through 2028); U.S. now ~57–60% of EU LNG imports.
• Russia–China gas: Power of Siberia ~44 bcm/yr; PoS-2 MoU up to 50 bcm/yr (terms/timing unresolved).
• War clock: Russia–Ukraine year 5; US-Israel-Iran war since Feb 28, 2026.
And as the sequence settles, the logic sharpens:
1. U.S. leverage signaling (Apr 24) precedes UK optics. Floating Falklands review is a bargaining cue aimed at allies seen as under-supporting Iran operations.
2. European criticism (Apr 27)—Merz—publicly widens the rift and validates Washington’s view that allies are misaligned on war aims.
3. UK visit (Apr 27–28) occurs after both signals—placing London in a visible squeeze between alliance loyalty and domestic/European positioning.
4. UAE exit (Apr 28) adds an independent shock: producers prioritize national output flexibility over cartel discipline as Hormuz risk rises.
Step back just slightly, and the structure comes into focus:
Not orchestration—convergence. The same shock (Hormuz) forces:
• Producers → flexibility (UAE out).
• Europe → dependence vs. autonomy contradiction.
• Iran → negotiation theater to exploit splits.
• U.S. → shift from guarantor to transactional enforcer (energy + security for alignment).
What remains, once the noise clears:
The sequence matters: U.S. signal → EU critique → UK engagement → Gulf defection. Under stress, latent dependencies become bargaining chips. Outcomes will track flows (oil/LNG), prices, and concrete alignment, not statements.
May the good guys be revealed— and may the good guys always win.
Claudia Sheinbaum’s agenda begins from a place most people would agree with:
A genuine attempt to care for people—stabilize households, reduce poverty, and expand access to basic needs. In many ways, it reflects how we would want the world to work.
And in the short term, it can.
But reality is governed by capacity—and power.
Large economies can run bigger deficits longer because they sit at the center of global capital flows, control reserve currencies, and shape trade conditions. That’s not status. It’s leverage.
Mexico operates with tighter margins—more exposed to capital flight, currency pressure, and growth limits.
That makes sequencing critical.
Redistribution is moving faster than the engines that must sustain it: productivity, investment, security, and institutional efficiency.
Those engines take time. Spending does not.
If they don’t accelerate in parallel, commitments begin to outrun capacity—especially if remittances soften or external conditions tighten.
This model can stabilize the present.
But the system is already showing early strain along its current trajectory—especially under tightening external conditions.
Mexico must hit the integration/growth pathway fast enough—or the gap widens.
Without structural expansion, it risks straining the future.
I wish her well.
May the good guys always win.