Let me tell you something. This Tucker Carlson-Trump duo might be the greatest circus act since Barnum realized people would pay good money to see a guy stick his head in a lion’s mouth. But instead of a lion, it’s democracy, and instead of sticking their heads in, they’re gleefully lighting it on fire.
First, Tucker Carlson—yes, that Tucker. A man who looks like he was yanked out of a country club buffet line and forced to solve a crossword puzzle on live television. Apparently, he’s whispering sweet nothings into the ear of the former President about cabinet picks. You know, because that’s exactly who I want advising on the future of America: a guy who gets paid millions to be outraged by M&Ms losing their high heels.
Let’s talk about the picks themselves. It’s not just a cabinet. It’s a slapstick comedy act with executive powers. You’ve got people whose qualifications are as solid as a wet paper bag. It’s like Trump went on a bender, turned on a late-night infomercial, and said, “Get me that guy. He’s selling knives that can cut through steel.”
This isn’t governing; it’s chaos on purpose. It’s that moment when someone flips over a Monopoly board because they’re losing, except this time it’s the country, and there’s no little brother crying in the corner—just the rest of us screaming into the void.
Tucker’s role in this? Oh, it’s rich. The guy probably thinks he’s some kind of kingmaker. He’s not. He’s more like that guy at a barbecue who keeps poking the grill, saying, “I know how to fix this,” while everything goes up in flames. I mean, who asked for his opinion in the first place? Does he have a degree in public policy? Nope. Did he run a lemonade stand successfully as a kid? Doubtful. His qualifications include having a punchable smirk and a history of spouting nonsense with absolute conviction.
The real kicker is how this partnership exemplifies what politics has become. Forget reason. Forget logic. Forget even the illusion of dignity. We’re now in the era where the loudest, most ridiculous person in the room is handed the biggest microphone, and we all have to pretend this is fine. It’s not fine. It’s like watching someone try to deep fry a frozen turkey indoors. You know it’s going to end badly, but you just can’t look away.
Let’s break down the absurdity of this entire scenario. Imagine, just for a moment, that you’re interviewing someone to run a company. A real company. Let’s call it… Oh, I don’t know, The United States of America, Inc. And your hiring process involves a guy in a bowtie—because Tucker’s soul will forever wear one—telling you to give the VP of HR position to someone who last managed a Chuck E. Cheese.
This isn’t political strategy. It’s a bad episode of Survivor. Except instead of being voted off the island, the contestants get to play with nuclear codes. Wonderful. Just wonderful.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are stuck watching this madness unfold. And let me tell you, it’s exhausting. Every morning, I wake up, check the news, and feel like I just opened an email from a Nigerian prince. It’s the same energy: I know this is a scam, but how bad is it going to screw me today?
And the media? Oh, they’re loving it. Nothing gets clicks like watching democracy play chicken with a brick wall. Every time Tucker burps up another half-baked idea or Trump endorses someone who thinks science is a liberal conspiracy, it’s like Christmas morning for the 24-hour news cycle. You can practically hear the anchors saying, “Well, this is terrible, but also… cha-ching.”
The part that really gets me, though, is how many people buy into this nonsense. They’re out there, waving their flags, yelling about how this is what the Founding Fathers wanted. Really? This? The Founding Fathers wanted a lot of things. A functioning post office, for one. Not a government run by people who think facts are a liberal hoax.
Here’s the truth: The people in power don’t care about you. Tucker doesn’t care about you. Trump doesn’t care about you. They care about ratings. They care about attention. They care about the same thing every bad high school theater kid cares about: being the loudest person in the room. And we’re the suckers who keep giving them standing ovations.
So what do we do? I’ll tell you what we don’t do. We don’t sit back and let these clowns run the circus. We don’t let Tucker Carlson decide who gets the keys to the country. We don’t pretend this is normal. Because it’s not. It’s madness. It’s the kind of madness that makes me want to sit in a dark room and scream into a pillow for the rest of eternity.
But screaming doesn’t fix anything. What fixes things is paying attention. Real attention. Not the kind of attention that gets distracted by shiny objects or angry soundbites. The kind of attention that says, “Hey, maybe we should put people in charge who actually know what they’re doing.”
Is that so much to ask? Apparently, yes. But I’m asking anyway. Because if we don’t demand better, this won’t just be a one-off joke. It’ll be the punchline to the world’s longest-running tragedy.
