This afternoon, I tuned in for what history might someday call Trump’s real inaugural address. Not the pomp and circumstance of the first one, but the raw, unvarnished spectacle of a man addressing the crowd he believes crowned him king. It wasn’t a speech. It was a sermon—a rambling, self-indulgent litany of grievances, each punctuated by applause from his faithful congregation. But the real performance wasn’t on the stage. No, it was standing just behind him,...

Power. It’s an intoxicating elixir, isn’t it? The word alone drips with promises of control, influence, and dominion. Yet, here we are—peons in a field of chaff, sold the glittering fantasy of democracy while the elites carve up the pie. Politics, my friends, is nothing but a popularity contest for the unattractive souls who covet more than they deserve. And like moths to the flame, we gather, deluded into thinking we’re part of the process. Let’s dispense with...

Ah, the United States of America. Land of the free. Home of the brave. Or so the bumper stickers tell us. But let’s peel back the red, white, and blue curtain for a moment, shall we? Beneath the patriotic bravado and the fireworks is a truth far less convenient: this land was never ours, and the norms we cling to were never real. They are illusions—smoke and mirrors to keep us docile while the powerful tighten their grip. Take a moment to reflect on our so-called...

History is a cruel judge. It sees in black and white, leaving no room for nuance. Today, I bent the knee. Not because I wanted to, not because I lacked the courage to fight, but because the game demands it. Sometimes, survival is not about charging forward with a sword drawn; sometimes, it’s about stepping back, assessing the battlefield, and choosing the moment when the blade will strike deepest. Neville Chamberlain comes to mind. Poor, maligned Chamberlain. A man remembered not for...

Edited for clarity :He did it. He knows it, you know it, and so do I. And he’ll do it again. Now, isn’t that a sight to behold? Just wait until you see that swagger—like some triumphant peacock, tail feathers flared, ready to crush what’s left of a grieving family’s hope. Not a flicker of remorse in those eyes, no tremor in his voice. He’s the monster about to stride into the spotlight, and we—God help us—are the ones nailing the boards into the...

Donald Trump. The patron saint of wishful thinking. A man whose gospel is written in gold plating and delivered with the subtlety of a jackhammer. He promises the impossible, sells the improbable, and somehow, people kneel at the altar. Not because he’s a savior—but because he gives them permission to believe in fantasies. That’s the genius of it, isn’t it? Not his genius, mind you. No, he’s a blunt instrument. The kind of man who doesn’t bother sharpening...

Ah, the Democrats—a party so consumed with their own righteousness, so convinced of their moral and intellectual superiority, that they forgot one fundamental truth: power is not about being virtuous; it’s about being victorious. In their quest to paint Trump as the ultimate villain, the Democrats became the very caricature they sought to destroy. Out of touch, outlandish, and reeking of desperation, they lost to a man who didn’t so much win the presidency as they handed it...

In the glitzy world of billionaires, there’s a particular talent that often goes unnoticed: the ability to profit off the very systems they pretend to disdain. Enter Elon Musk — tech tycoon, free speech crusader, and the self-proclaimed thorn in the side of the establishment. But beneath the Twitter storms and grandiose declarations lies a man who knows how to milk the system for everything it’s worth. And when Donald Trump steps back into the Oval Office, Musk stands to...

Ah, President Joe Biden—the man, the myth, the inadvertent martyr of modern politics. It’s almost adorable how everyone who’s mad at Biden seems to be driven by one thing: pure, unadulterated jealousy. Yes, you heard that right. Those relentless Republicans clutching their pearls? More like clutching their insecurities. In the grand theater of American politics, it’s often the case that those who scream the loudest are driven not by principles, but by something far...

Jimmy Carter—alive, resolute, and still proving you wrong after 100 years. A century of service, a life defined by principle, decency, and the unwavering belief that peace is not just possible, but essential. He stands as the living embodiment of integrity, a man who has outlasted wars, critics, and the cowardice of those who sneered at him. And yet, as he breathes, as he continues his quiet work for humanity, where are you? Where the hell are you? You—who mocked him, dismissed...

Enough with the excuses. Enough with the cowardice masquerading as strategy. Enough with the endless parades for war while peace slinks away unnoticed. Every country, every so-called leader, needs to hear this loud and clear: peace isn’t just an option. It’s the only victory worth having. And it’s time you declared it with the same pomp, the same fury, the same goddamned spectacle you reserve for your wars. War is easy. It’s the cheap trick of nations too arrogant to...

Ah, cancel culture—a gladiatorial arena where the self-righteous sharpen their pitchforks and feed their insatiable hunger for digital blood. It’s the modern-day colosseum, except the lions are hashtags, and the mobs chant in 280 characters or less. Cancel me, they scream. Cancel me, I dare you. But let me make one thing abundantly clear: I don’t beg. I don’t yield. And I certainly don’t kneel before the court of public opinion. No, I thrive in chaos. You want...