The great culling of Eurostan's energy profligacy has begun, and the architects of managed scarcity in Brussels will note its arrival with quiet satisfaction. Slovenia has introduced mandatory fuel rationing, Italian airports are prioritising jet fuel for essential flights, and the European Union — that magnificent bureaucratic cathedral of regulated misery — has begun instructing its citizens to work from home, drive less, reduce speed, and consume less of everything, because the Strait of Hormuz, that providential chokepoint, has disrupted the 20% of global oil and gas flows upon which the continent's industrial civilisation depends.

https://europeanconservative.com/articles/news/eu-energy-crisis-rationing-dependency-hormuz-covid-lockdowns/

Europe entered this crisis with gas storage at a mere 30% capacity, dependent on Middle Eastern supply for 7% of its oil, 8.5% of its LNG, and as much as 40% of its jet fuel and diesel — a dependency that the Malthusian planners of Washington and Tel Aviv have now activated with surgical precision. Energy-intensive industries are adding surcharges of 30% merely to remain operational, production is contracting, and the stagflationary spiral that reduces both output and purchasing power simultaneously is performing exactly as the historical models predicted. The population has not yet grasped that the oil already in transit is merely delaying the ‘fuel reckoning’. What is currently presented as voluntary guidance will become mandatory restriction. The depopulation of prosperity has commenced. The first phase is always called an energy crisis.

https://www.celsiusenergy.net/p/european-natural-gas-inventories.html

Energy is the economy’s basement—so when it cracks, don’t be surprised if the whole house starts making weird noises. Europe seems to have entered that charming phase, where remote work and “mindful consumption” suddenly look less like lifestyle choices and more like early warning signals that the plumbing underneath is under serious pressure.

Here’s how to explain six weeks of Epic F**k Up in one minute—no charts, no models, just vibes.

In another thrilling data release—about as enlightening as a broken clock in a government office—the Fed’s beloved Core PCE dutifully did exactly what everyone expected: up 0.4% MoM in February (pre-war), with YoY easing to 3.0%, its “lowest since December,” which apparently now qualifies as progress. Headline PCE followed the script just as obediently, rising 0.4% MoM and 2.8% YoY, while beneath the surface, non-durable goods prices decided to wake up at the worst possible time. Meanwhile, the ever-reassuring “SuperCore” slowed to 0.2% MoM, with YoY drifting down to 3.2%—because nothing says victory over inflation like still being comfortably above target, just slightly less embarrassingly so ahead of an energy supply shock.

In a nutshell, the FED beloved inflation indicator came in exactly as expected—still too high, just politely pretending it’s improving ahead of an energy supply shock.

On day two of this “epic” ceasefire—already living up to its reputation—the Empire’s Treasury rolled out a $22 billion 30-year reopening, delivering yet another masterpiece of mediocrity. The auction stopped at 4.876%, basically unchanged from last month’s 4.871% and conveniently the highest since July, while managing to tail the When Issued by 0.5bps—because even long-term “certainty” now needs a little nudge to get across the line.

Demand, naturally, showed all the enthusiasm of a lunch meeting. The bid-to-cover slipped to 2.385—down from 2.452 and the weakest since December ’25—while internals delivered a perfectly “fine” mix of quiet disappointment: indirects at 64.14% (still below average), directs easing to 24.23%, and dealers politely stuck with 11.6%—their largest share since January, because someone has to pretend this is all going according to plan.

Overall, a perfectly mediocre 30-year auction—unsurprising, really, since lending money for three decades to a declining empire busy weaponizing its own currency and financing its latest “holy mission” isn’t exactly everyone’s idea of prudent capital allocation… unless, of course, you’re being paid to pretend it is.

On Day 2 of the Epic Ceasefire of the war that was won on Day 1 — and is therefore presumably now won twice — The Macro Butler is back on Piggo’s Trading Desk , and he didn’t come to make friends with Wall Street.

On the menu today: how to survive Episode 2 in financial markets, why commodity producers are about to become the new Magnificent 7 while AI stocks contemplate their life choices, and why the SpaceX IPO — that glittering rocket-shaped wealth transfer vehicle being lovingly promoted by Wall Street’s finest banksters — deserves considerably more skepticism than enthusiasm.

🎙 Pull up a chair. Pour something strong. Take notes.

👉 Watch now — because while the Empire negotiates its ceasefire and prepares its next move, the smart money is rotating. Has yours? 🛢🥇

https://themacrobutler.substack.com/p/interview-with-piggos-trading-desk-0f7

In a development that the Keynesian technocrats of Eurostan will classify as a failure of public communication rather than a failure of public policy, the citizens of Ireland and Greece have declined to accept higher energy prices with the stoic compliance their governments had apparently budgeted for. Ireland has achieved the remarkable distinction of internally immobilising up to half its own fuel supply — not through Middle Eastern hostilities but through the coordinated blockades of farmers, haulers, and transport operators who have shut down fuel depots in protest at energy costs that small businesses and agricultural operators describe, with some understatement, as unsustainable. The government has responded by deploying the Defence Forces, describing the protests as "national sabotage" — a characterisation that conflates the symptoms of a policy failure with an act of treason.

https://www.reuters.com/world/protests-over-high-fuel-costs-clog-dublin-other-irish-cities-second-day-2026-04-08/

Greece, meanwhile, has deployed thousands of tractors to block highways, border crossings, and major ports, demanding tax-free diesel and electricity price caps from a government whose marginal pricing structure has delivered European electricity market volatility directly to the wallets of farmers who cannot absorb it.

The pattern across both countries is identical: energy costs rise, multiple sectors align in opposition simultaneously, and governments that refused to negotiate discover that the military is a considerably more expensive substitute for a policy response. The Energy Lockdowns of Eurostan have not yet been formally declared. The riots, however, have already begun.

As Confucius might gently observe, the wise power need not wage war when patience and supply chains suffice: the Middle Kingdom, a diligent reader of Sun Tzu, understands that a quiet squeeze can achieve what armies cannot—especially when certain empires insist on turning trade routes into chessboards. While others experiment with “creative disruptions” in distant deserts, China watches nearby chokepoints with polite interest, knowing geography is the ultimate strategist. Meanwhile, the latest economic scrolls reveal a touch of irony: factory prices have finally stirred from their long slumber thanks to rising energy costs, nudging inflation upward just as consumer demand takes a courteous step back.

The true test of a company is not what the prices say, but what it can pass on. For Chinese corporates—as everywhere—the real game lies in transmitting higher costs to the consumer, and the spread between core CPI and core PPI quietly reveals how much pricing power still remains. In March, that spread stayed positive, but shrank to its lowest level since December 2020—an era when valuations were still lofty, just before the great reality check of 2021–2022 gently reminded investors that margins, like virtue, are easier preached than preserved.

In a nutshell, China plays the long game—using patience, chokepoints, and pricing power—while markets relearn that when margins shrink, valuations soon follow.

The third CPI print arrived right on cue—because after a full month of “holy” chaos, nothing says surprise like a neat +0.9% MoM, the biggest jump since May 2022, when inflation last decided to go full main character. Year-over-year, CPI politely reaccelerated to 3.3%—just a touch below expectations, but still the hottest since May 2024, because apparently inflation enjoys a good comeback tour. Under the hood, energy woke up (+0.8% YoY, the strongest since late 2022), food looked deceptively calm (for now), and the whole thing feels less like a peak and more like the appetizer before the second course—where shortages start showing up and inflation stops pretending it’s under control.

Core CPI delivered another riveting episode of “nothing to see here”: +0.2% MoM and +2.6% YoY—just a hair below expectations, and conveniently a touch hotter than last time, because consistency matters when maintaining the illusion. The real headliner was core services (a casual 76% of the basket), heating up to 2.30%, its warmest since November, while core goods stayed politely subdued at +0.28%. Translation: everything looks beautifully under control—right before shortages, energy shocks, and petrochemical chaos make their inevitably dramatic entrance. Enjoy the calm while it lasts.

March’s CPI will no doubt be waved away by Donald Copperfield as another “transitory” hiccup—just a minor side effect of the Empire’s latest Middle East little excursion—when in reality it looks suspiciously like the opening act of inflation’s sequel: first energy, then food, then everything else. Call it Stagflation: Season 2—same plot, bigger budget, fewer exits. While officials toast “transitory data” and rehearse their victory speeches, actual households are busy funding the remake through higher grocery and energy bills. Inflation hasn’t disappeared—it’s just warming up ahead of the next sprint, conveniently timed with rising fiscal excess to finance more holy wars and declining trust in institutions. But sure, nothing to see here—just don’t compare the narrative with your receipt.

Instead of daydreaming about 2–3% inflation like it’s a campaign slogan, seasoned investors can still do basic math—awkward, I know: for that miracle to happen by end-2026, CPI would need to print a flawless 0.0% every month… which should be easy, right, especially with a “minor” geopolitical hiccup disrupting a fifth of global oil supply. At a more realistic 0.3%+ pace, we’re casually gliding toward 4.7%–6.6% inflation—no big deal. And when that little detail catches up, not even Donald Copperfield playing Central Banker-in-Chief will conjure rate cuts out of thin air. Add in a few well-timed shortages heading into election season, and suddenly the only magic trick left is how purchasing power vanished—poof—somewhere along the supply chain.

In a nutshell, “Transitory” inflation is back—starting with energy, spreading to everything else—while households pay for the sequel policymakers insist isn’t happening.