authoritarian-in-chief RSVPs to free press cosplay gala

A tuxedoed Trump addresses the room, bravely enduring the nation’s most savage punishment for attacking the free press: a rubber chicken dinner and a few jokes everyone’s too scared to tell.
Documenting the chaos since day one — one awful day at a time.

A tuxedoed Trump addresses the room, bravely enduring the nation’s most savage punishment for attacking the free press: a rubber chicken dinner and a few jokes everyone’s too scared to tell.

Tucker Carlson, pictured here in the wild, attempting to evolve from propaganda goldfish to thoughtful statesman long after the tank has been drained.
Tucker Carlson, longtime Trump hype man and professional white grievance sommelier, is now reportedly remorseful about supporting the guy he spent years selling as a cross between George Washington and a Facebook uncle with Wi-Fi. NPR chats with Jason Zengerle, who literally wrote the book on Carlson, about Tucker's sudden, dramatic break from Trump — the political equivalent of the arsonist standing in front of the burning building and saying, "Boy, someone really should have done something."
The timing is, of course, impeccable: after years of amplifying lies, laundering authoritarian talking points, and cashing checks off the back of Trumpism, Carlson is now trying on the who, me? persona. It's a classic MAGA ecosystem move: spend a decade helping set democracy on fire, then pivot to "deeply concerned" commentator once the flames get uncomfortably close to your own reputation. Whether this is soul-searching or just brand maintenance, the damage was done long ago — and the people who believed him don't get a remorse tour.

Trump gazes at the southern border, wondering why screaming "invasion" doesn’t automatically overwrite the U.S. Code.
Donald Trump, constitutional scholar of Fox News University, has once again discovered that the president of the United States is not, in fact, a one-man immigration code. A three-judge panel on the DC circuit just blocked his executive order that tried to shut down asylum access at the southern border because he declared an "invasion" on inauguration day and decided, personally, that the law no longer applied until he felt better about it.
The court helpfully reminded him that the Immigration and Nationality Act gives people the right to apply for asylum and that the president does not get to create "procedures of his own making" or erase mandatory protections against torture and persecution. Even Trump-appointed Judge Justin Walker could only manage a partial dissent, agreeing that, no, the commander-in-chief cannot just deport people to be persecuted or strip away the basic process that prevents that. Baby steps.
The White House response was to scream "liberal judges" and accuse the courts of being political, which is an interesting charge from an administration that calls everything an invasion and then claims sweeping powers to override statutes because they saw a scary segment on cable news. Press secretary Karoline Leavitt insisted Trump was acting "completely within his powers" and that judges should be thanking him for stopping a supposed "scam" that let "tens of millions" fraudulently claim asylum, a number that—fun fact—does not exist outside the Mar-a-Lago math department.
The administration now threatens to run to the supreme court, because when your entire immigration agenda is built on pretending Congress never passed any laws, you might as well see how far the courts will let you push the fantasy. For now, though, the ruling delays Trump's latest attempt to convert asylum law into a vibes-based deportation machine.

Lady Liberty, updated for the Trump era, holding a flaming "CANCELLED" stamp instead of a torch.
The Trump administration has decided that citizenship is less a solemn, stable legal status and more a Costco membership you can revoke if you don’t like someone’s accent. DOJ officials say they’re targeting at least 300 foreign-born Americans for possible denaturalization, and USCIS has been told to trawl through files nationwide to cough up 100–200 potential victims per month, like it’s running a loyalty program for fascism. Federal prosecutors in field offices are now moonlighting as citizenship bounty hunters.
Publicly, DOJ insists this is all about “criminal aliens defrauding the naturalization process” and brags it’s pursuing the highest volume of denaturalization referrals in history under President Trump and Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche. Historically, denaturalization was rare and reserved for people who hid serious crimes or human rights abuses. Now the shopping list includes everyone from alleged national security risks to people who committed Medicaid fraud, because nothing says war crimes like billing the wrong medical code.
Context: about 800,000 people become citizens every year, and across Trump’s entire first term they filed only 102 denaturalization cases. Now they’re scaling up the machinery to make citizenship for immigrants a permanent probationary status. You thought naturalization meant you were American; Trump’s DOJ is here to clarify you’re actually just on a trial subscription, cancelable at any time by a government that’s suddenly very excited about its power to un-make citizens.

Trump studies a globe, asks if the Falklands come with naming rights and a golf course option.

Jerome Powell contemplates the exciting new Fed mandate: full employment, stable prices, and not annoying the president.

Artist’s impression of Donald Trump discovering that the pope has a boss who isn’t named Donald Trump.
Donald Trump has discovered, to his evident shock, that the pope does not actually report to the White House. Pope Leo XIV – also known as Bob from the south side of Chicago, lifelong White Sox fan and inconveniently admired American – has been publicly condemning Trump’s greatest hits: the Iran war, mass deportations, and the general policy of "bomb a whole civilization back to the Stone Age" as if that’s a normal thing for a president to say. Trump responded in the only way he knows how: insisting Leo was basically elected to flatter him, screeching that the pope is "WEAK on Crime", and whining that he doesn’t want a pope who criticizes the Dear Leader because he’s just doing what he was elected to do "IN A LANDSLIDE".
When moral authority refused to bend the knee, Trump went to work with the tools of state power. The administration yanked a federal grant from a Catholic charity in Miami that was ministering to immigrant children, helpfully underlining that this isn’t a culture war metaphor – it’s an actual government choosing cruelty to kids as a pressure tactic on the Church. Meanwhile, Trump’s white evangelical base and their Christian nationalist friends are still lighting prayer candles to Maga Jesus. At a White House prayer breakfast, Trump compared his reception to Jesus entering Jerusalem and bragged, "They call me king now," while Paula White-Cain, chair of the White House faith office and January 6 warm-up act, likened his indictments to the Passion of Christ. Separation of church and state has been replaced with a merger: the Church of Trump, fully tax-funded.
Trump briefly posted an AI image of himself in a white robe healing the sick, surrounded by angels, a devil, and a jet fighter – because why not throw in a little holy airstrike cosplay? – then tried to claim he was just a doctor, not Christ. Conservative writer Rod Dreher, who helped midwife this whole religious-political Frankenstein, now says Trump is channeling the "spirit of Antichrist" and calls him "batshit crazy", which is about as close as you get to a formal theological diagnosis on Truth Social. The upshot: the most despised American in the world is locked in a public tantrum against the most admired American in a white cassock, and the presidency is being used as a stage for a leader cult that demands religious fealty, punishes dissenters, and treats criticism from Rome like treason against the state.

Donald Trump explains that he speaks for the UK, NATO, and probably Narnia, while Prince Harry selfishly limits himself to speaking for… himself.
Donald Trump, a man whose grasp of the UK begins and ends with his golf courses and Nigel Farage’s phone number, has announced that he speaks for Britain "more than Prince Harry" after the Duke of Sussex urged the US to honor its obligations to Ukraine. Harry, a veteran who actually went to war zones on purpose, gave a serious, detailed speech at the Kyiv Security Forum about defending Ukraine after four years of Russian invasion.
The US president’s response? Declare that he is the real voice of the UK, casually overwrite what 67 million British people and their elected government might think, and then tack on a "but I appreciate his advice" like he’s grading a student presentation. Harry never claimed to speak for the UK, but Trump certainly claimed it for himself, because nothing says "respect for allies" like a reality TV landlord deciding he outranks an entire country.
So on one side: a former soldier traveling to a war-torn country to push the US to live up to its commitments. On the other: a president whose main contribution to the Ukraine conversation is publicly role‑playing as Britain’s unelected spokesman while doing the diplomatic equivalent of subtweeting a prince. The special relationship has officially entered its gaslighting era.

Anu Bradford, calmly explaining that Europe needs strategic autonomy because relying on Donald Trump for security is like relying on Elon Musk for workplace stability.

Trump, moments before explaining that 250 years of American history can be fixed with a fresh coat of pool paint and a no-bid contractor.

Markwayne Mullin, future head of America’s favorite unmarked paramilitary cosplay club, practices pointing at things instead of fixing them.

Navy Secretary John Phelan poses next to concept art for the U.S.S. Defiant, a ship that exists primarily in Trump’s imagination and on this poster.

Senate Republicans celebrate "border security" by hurling $70bn at ICE at 3:30am, proving the only thing they fear more than migrants is daylight and debate.

Elon Musk and Frank Bisignano search "how to run social security" while a million seniors listen to hold music.
The Trump administration discovered a bold new way to "reform" Social Security: fire more than 7,000 workers, hand the data keys to Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency, and then act shocked when seniors can’t get through on the phone before their next birthday. A new report from Elizabeth Warren’s "Social Security War Room" says wait times are over ten times longer than advertised, rural offices are effectively shuttered, and millions of seniors and disabled Americans are now playing customer service roulette with their only lifeline.
While field offices collapse under catastrophic staff cuts, Musk and DOGE have been busy doing what they do best: lying about fraud and hoarding data. Musk falsely claimed Social Security is a "ponzi scheme" paying out dead people and undocumented immigrants, and DOGE loudly declared that 40% of calls to change direct deposit were fraudulent. Actual SSA data: 2 fraudulent cases out of 110,000 claims. But sure, who are you going to trust, the agency’s numbers or the guy who treats public benefits like a meme coin?
Meanwhile, Trump installed investment banker Frank Bisignano to run Social Security, a man who literally had to Google the job when he was offered it. He floated cutting disability benefits and hiking the retirement age, then backed down after massive backlash, which the administration now spins as "historic customer service improvements". The SSA and White House insist Trump has "fought and delivered" for seniors, proudly pointing to a temporary tax deduction while ignoring the part where people can’t reach anyone to get their benefits. It’s a neat trick: starve the system, break it, then claim you’re the savior for tossing folks a small tax coupon on the benefits they can’t access.

The Washington Hilton ballroom, where the free press bravely toasts the man calling them ‘enemy of the people’ and calls it a defense of the First Amendment.

Jodi Kantor, seen here addressing a crowd, which is still legal at universities that haven’t annoyed Trump this week.
Jodi Kantor shows up to give a commencement address at Columbia only to find her alma mater has been turned into a cautionary tale about what happens when you offend a president with the emotional range of a Reddit reply guy. Trump had already tried to rip away $400m in federal funding as punishment for pro-Palestinian protests, with students getting expelled or even detained by immigration officials. Academic freedom, meet federal extortion.
The money was eventually partially restored in a settlement, because even this administration occasionally remembers courts exist. But the damage is the point: a flagship university turned into a political hostage so Trump can send a message that dissent comes with a price tag. The students Kantor talks to don’t even want to discuss Trump or Gaza anymore – they’re too busy wondering how to build a life in a country where your financial aid can disappear the second you inconvenience the Dear Leader.
Kantor’s new book is ostensibly about how Gen Z can find meaningful work, but the subtext writes itself: you’re graduating into an economy where the president treats universities like misbehaving contractors and where immigration officials show up as campus event security. The kids wanted advice on careers; what they got was a live demo of how an administration can casually weaponize federal dollars against speech it doesn’t like. Truly a hands-on civics lesson in killing-democracy.

Laura Loomer, seen here in her natural habitat: somewhere between a camera, a conspiracy theory, and a restraining order she hasn’t filed yet.
Laura Loomer, professional Islamophobe and unpaid Trump emotional support animal, just had a rough day in court. A federal judge tossed her defamation suit against Bill Maher for joking on HBO that she might be sleeping with Donald Trump — a joke made during the period when she was trailing him like a Secret Service agent with fewer boundaries and more conspiracy theories.
Judge James Moody helpfully noted that Maher was clearly joking, and that a “reasonable viewer” would understand that. He also pointed out the inconvenient fact that Loomer’s income actually went up after the joke, while Trump still invites her to the White House and “continues to solicit her opinions,” which frankly feels like reputational harm to the rest of us.
Loomer responded on X by calling the ruling “outrageous” and “misogynistic,” arguing that suggesting she might have sex with Trump can’t just be brushed off as a joke. Bold strategy: insisting that being publicly linked to the man whose endorsement she clings to like a life raft is a devastating smear. Meanwhile, elsewhere in Trumpworld, Kash Patel is also busy using defamation law as a PR weapon, because nothing screams confidence in your integrity like trying to sue every media outlet that mentions your alleged drinking.

Carter Page, beaming like a man who just discovered that government abuse is bad only when it happens to Trump’s friends—and also comes with a seven-figure apology note.

Trump in the Oval Office, pointing at the concept of losing and declaring it unconstitutional.

Sean Plankey, seen here realizing the Senate has left him on read for over a year while Trump saws through what’s left of America’s cyber defenses.