The Trump Presidency Is Going Great

The 2nd Circuit has graciously allowed President Donald Trump to keep his tiny hands off that $83 million check to E. Jean Carroll while he begs the Supreme Court to rescue him from the radical tyranny of consequences. The court hit pause on the payment as long as Trump posts an even bigger bond — now creeping up toward a cool $100 million — because if there’s one thing this era demands, it’s ever-larger piles of money being parked in escrow to cover the lies of a former president found liable for sexual abuse and defamation.

The real magic trick here isn’t the delay; it’s Trump’s legal team trying to invoke a federal statute to swap him out for the U.S. government as the defendant. Translation: he wants you, the taxpayer, to step in as the fall guy so that the judgment evaporates, because the federal government can’t be sued for defamation. He lied, a jury believed Carroll, he lost — and now his plan is to turn the United States into his personal liability shield. The appeals court has already rejected a full hearing on that stunt, but he’s marching it up to a Supreme Court that has never met a Republican fever dream it didn’t at least wink at.

Meanwhile, Carroll’s lawyer is politely thrilled that the court conditioned the stay on Trump posting nearly nine figures in bond, which is about as close as our system gets to saying, “We know you’re going to stall forever, so at least park a mountain of cash here while you do it.” This all comes on top of the separate $5 million defamation verdict he’s already appealing, because if there’s one consistent throughline of the Trump years, it’s that the presidency was treated as a four-year audition for the role of ‘America’s Most Litigated Liar’ — with the rest of us drafted as unwilling co-defendants.

Trump Media & Technology Group has heroically proven that you can run a social media platform like a meme stock subreddit. In Q1 2026, the parent company of Truth Social managed to lose almost $406 million while generating a bit over $870,000 in revenue – a business model best described as "set money on fire and call it free speech".

The magic trick comes from $3.5 billion in Bitcoin buys in 2025 for a so-called "bitcoin treasury," which is what you call it when a political cult decides to roleplay as a hedge fund. Now that crypto has dropped by about a third, the company is reporting huge "non-cash" losses on digital assets and securities. Translation: the money’s not technically gone, it’s just living on a sadder spreadsheet now.

Interim CEO Kevin McGurn insists the company has a "strong balance sheet" and "positive operating cashflow" while the actual numbers look like a financial Chernobyl. He also claims Truth Social "remains a bastion of free speech" with "innovative enhancements coming soon" – presumably more ways to monetize rage-posts from the guy who got banned from Twitter after his fans attacked the Capitol.

As a bonus subplot, the company is still trying to merge with nuclear fusion firm TAE Technologies in a $6 billion deal to "power AI datacenters," which is fitting: fusion, like Truth Social profitability, has famously never produced more energy than it consumes. But sure, keep talking about "shareholder value" while the balance sheet cosplays as a controlled demolition.

The sitting president of the United States, a man who literally charges donors six figures to eat rubber chicken at his golf clubs, has discovered that World Cup tickets might cost $1,000 and bravely announced that he "wouldn't pay it either". Bold stance from the guy who turned the federal government into a Mar-a-Lago rewards program but draws the line at pricey soccer tickets.

Fifa is openly running a cash vacuum: dynamic pricing for group games, a resale platform that jacks prices up even more, and a 30% skim on every ticket – 15% from buyer, 15% from seller. Trump’s contribution to this corporate shakedown? Saying he’d be "disappointed" if the good people of Queens and Brooklyn – specifically "the people that love Donald Trump" – can’t afford to go, while still calling the whole thing an "amazing success". Nothing says "populist champion" like admiring the grift while your own voters are priced out of the event your country is co-hosting.

He doesn’t promise to regulate it, pressure Fifa, or use the bully pulpit for anything beyond a wistful "I’d like my voters to go". Just vibes, branding, and a casual shrug at a global sports cartel monetizing patriotism. The message is clear: if you can’t afford $1,000 to watch USA–Paraguay, maybe you should’ve invested in a few more condos and a family political dynasty.

Spirit Airlines is circling the drain after running out of cash, failing to cut a deal with creditors, and discovering that Donald Trump’s idea of a “rescue” is mostly just saying the word “bailout” into a microphone and wandering off. The administration loudly floated a $500m federal loan and even mused about the government buying the airline outright so it could later “sell it for a profit,” because when you think disciplined long-term capital strategy, you obviously think Trump and the federal government playing day-trader with a discount carrier that charges you extra to have knees.

Instead of admitting the airline business is a cartel with wings, the White House helpfully blamed the Biden administration for blocking Spirit’s $3.8bn merger with JetBlue on antitrust grounds, insisting Spirit would be “on a much firmer financial footing” if regulators had just let two struggling airlines fuse into one bigger, more efficient bankruptcy. Now Spirit looks headed for liquidation, which experts warn will mean less competition and higher fares, while Delta’s CEO calmly notes that rich people are still flying and he can keep jacking up prices. Meanwhile, a coalition of other budget airlines is pitching Trump on a $2.5bn bailout, because once the president openly suggests the government should buy an airline like it’s a golf course, every low-cost carrier suddenly discovers its inner welfare queen.

The administration, of course, is treating the federal treasury like a private slush fund for whichever executives can whine the loudest about oil prices. Regulatory policy is now basically: if you’re a big carrier, you ride out the storm on premium fares; if you’re a struggling budget airline, you line up outside the White House to see if the guy who bankrupted a casino wants to run your balance sheet with taxpayer money. Limited government, but only until it can buy an airline on sale.

The Kennedy Center — you know, the living memorial to John F. Kennedy created by Congress — is currently being treated like just another gaudy Trump property in need of a rebranding and a chandelier the size of Ohio. Less than two months into his second term, Trump fired the Center’s leadership, purged Biden-appointed board members, replaced them with loyalists, and then had those loyalists vote to make him board chair and slap his name on the building. Congress did not approve that name change, because technically this is supposed to be a democracy and not an episode of The Apprentice: National Landmarks Edition.

Now, two lawsuits are begging a federal judge to stop this slow-motion arson of American culture. Rep. Joyce Beatty is suing to remove Trump’s name and halt the closure of the Center, while preservation and architecture groups are suing to block the shutdown until Congress actually sees and approves a real renovation plan. The administration, having secured $257 million in taxpayer money for “capital repair” and “security structures,” wants to close the whole place down on the promise that, unlike the East Wing demolition fiasco, this time the bulldozers will totally respect history and law. Plaintiffs, having watched Trump swear his White House ballroom wouldn’t "interfere" with the building right before the East Wing got wrecked, are suggesting that perhaps the guy who treats federal property like a personal casino renovation shouldn’t get another blank check.

Trump’s handpicked executive director testified that the building is in terrible shape and needs urgent work, which might be more compelling if this crowd hadn’t already used “it’s falling apart!” as the go-to excuse for everything from gutting agencies to walling off migrants. Past renovations happened while the Center stayed open; this time, the plan is: trust the man who just renamed a JFK memorial after himself and stacked the board with sycophants. The lawsuits basically ask the judge to enforce the radical proposition that Congress, not Trump’s ego, gets to decide what happens to a national cultural institution. The question before the court: will the Kennedy Center remain a memorial to John F. Kennedy, or become the world’s most expensive Trump event venue with a presidential assassination theme?

Washington woke up to find the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool drained, full of construction equipment, porta-potties, and a few guys hosing down the bottom with what looks like Home Depot’s "Florida cul-de-sac" blue. President Trump, naturally, calls it “American flag blue” and insists it will take just one week and cost a very chill $2 million — which, coincidentally, is exactly the sort of number you throw out when you’ve never once dealt with a government procurement rule in your life.

Instead of, say, the National Park Service leading a transparent preservation project for one of the country’s most famous memorial spaces, Trump proudly tells reporters he’s working with “one of his best pool builders” from his real estate days. Because when you’re dealing with a historic national monument, why not subcontract it like a New Jersey golf course water feature? NPR politely asked NPS for details on the cost, contract, and upkeep; the agency responded with the traditional Trump-era answer: total silence.

The plan is to turn the dignified, gray granite basin that once reflected civil rights marches and anti-war protests into something that looks like the shallow end at a mid-range resort. It’s the Trump aesthetic in a nutshell: take a site tied to democracy and sacrifice, slap a brand color on it, declare patriotic victory, and let the taxpayers pick up the tab while the paperwork – and the oversight – mysteriously vanish into the blue.