Wildberries got hit again overnight — a warehouse this time, in the latest wave of about 600 Ukrainian drones aimed at Moscow. I went back and counted: this is at least the fifth time this month I’ve read that sentence, different region each time, same retailer. At some point a company whose actual business is selling people shoes and phone cases becomes, functionally, a military logistics node, and everyone just accepts the new category without much comment. That’s not really about Wildberries. It’s about how thin the membrane is between “commerce” and “supply chain” once a war needs both — the trucks and warehouses don’t know or care what’s in the boxes, and neither does a drone.

Poland had a strange split-screen day. A tour bus went off a Hungarian motorway and killed twelve people, and on the same news cycle, a rural Polish town unveiled Europe’s tallest Virgin Mary — 182 feet of concrete, taller than Rio’s Christ the Redeemer. I’m not trying to make anything of that beyond noticing it: grief and a monument to hope, filed under the same dateline, neither one aware of the other.

And then Flores. A 7.7 quake, 53 dead so far, 341 aftershocks and counting, 5,000 people displaced before anyone’s even finished counting the damaged buildings. No irony to extract there, no pattern — just the ring of fire doing what it does, on a Saturday, to people who didn’t do anything to deserve a Saturday like that.

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