The Trump Presidency Timeline

Trump hopped on Truth Social to announce he is ordering a "TOTAL AND COMPLETE BLOCKADE" of all sanctioned oil tankers going in and out of Venezuela, because nothing says sober, lawful diplomacy like waking up and unilaterally declaring a naval blockade on a whim. He helpfully labeled Nicolás Maduro's government a "foreign terrorist organisation" and accused it of "Terrorism, Drug Smuggling, and Human Trafficking"—in other words, he described a cartoon villain and then gave himself permission to launch what Congressman Joaquin Castro correctly pointed out is "unquestionably an act of war." But sure, it’s all just another post on the app where coups go to get beta-tested.

Trump bragged that Venezuela is now "completely surrounded by the largest Armada ever assembled in the History of South America," which is both not how geography works and also a nice casual way of saying "we moved a giant floating airbase and thousands of troops into striking distance of a country we haven’t declared war on." The USS Gerald Ford, the world’s largest aircraft carrier, is now parked off Venezuela like a foreclosure notice with fighter jets. Meanwhile, the US has already been killing people in "drug" strikes on boats and seizing tankers like the Skipper, which Maduro describes as Washington "kidnapping" the crew and "stealing" the ship—because nothing says defending freedom like high-seas asset repossession backed by an armada.

Both Trump and Biden have spent years trying to topple Maduro with sanctions, but Trump has now hit the big, shiny "naval blockade" button—historically known as the thing you do after Congress declares war, not before a House resolution telling you to knock it off. Washington insists it’s stopping "illicit oil shipping" and "drug terrorism"; Venezuela insists the US is after its oil. Given that we’ve surrounded one of the world’s largest proven reserves with warships while screaming about stolen assets, this is definitely about democracy and not at all about hydrocarbons, why do you ask?

Downing Street is bravely insisting the “$40bn Tech Prosperity Deal” with the US is totally not dead, it’s just… resting. In “active conversations at all levels of government,” they say — which is a very polite way of admitting Trump slammed the brakes because the UK wouldn’t scrap its digital services tax and food safety rules fast enough for his Silicon Valley donors and agribusiness pals. Nothing says “historic cooperation” like Washington demanding London gut its own regulations as an entry fee.

While Rishi Sunak’s team pretends the deal is merely on pause, the Trump administration is busy threatening the entire European tech sector with economic penalties for the crime of… enforcing laws. The Office of the US Trade Representative accused the EU of “discriminatory and harassing lawsuits, taxes, fines and directives” against US firms, then helpfully singled out European companies like Accenture, DHL, Spotify and Siemens to warn that their long-enjoyed access to the US market might suddenly come with a MAGA surcharge.

The timing is chef’s kiss: this tantrum comes right after the EU slapped Elon Musk’s X with a $140m fine for lying about blue checkmarks, hiding ad data, and stonewalling researchers — in other words, doing exactly what Musk does. Brussels said, “these are neutral rules, they apply to everyone.” Trump’s people replied, essentially, “how dare you regulate our favorite oligarch’s disinformation machine, prepare for trade war.” Because nothing says “level playing field” like the White House threatening to punish Europe until it stops enforcing transparency rules on a platform that Trump openly uses as his personal propaganda outlet.

So to recap: the UK is clinging to a “Tech Prosperity” zombie deal while Washington demands deregulation tribute, the EU is trying to stop tech giants from scamming users and hiding data, and Trump’s response is to weaponize trade policy in defense of Elon Musk’s blue-check grift. But sure, tell us again how this is all about protecting fair competition and not just another episode of forever-grifting meets full-stupid.

Susie Wiles, Trump’s famously silent White House chief of staff, apparently used all her inside voice at once for Vanity Fair, giving author Chris Whipple 11 on-the-record interviews over a year. Because nothing says "tight, disciplined operation" like your top aide unloading to a glossy magazine about how the West Wing is a clown car on fire. Whipple calls it reporter lightning; the Trump White House calls it Tuesday.

In those chats, Wiles took a blowtorch to pretty much everyone: Attorney General Pam Bondi, she says, "completely whiffed" on the Epstein files, which is a nice, polite way of saying "you had one job." Vice President J.D. Vance gets tagged as a "conspiracy theorist," which, in this administration, is like calling someone "middle management"—technically descriptive, but wildly understated. And for the big finale, Wiles describes Donald Trump as having "an alcoholic's personality." Trump, a non-drinker, then proudly confirms this to the New York Post because of course he does: "She's right. I do have an obsessive and addictive personality." In other words, the guy with the nuclear codes just self-identified as constitutionally incapable of moderation.

After the piece drops, Wiles storms onto X to denounce it as a "disingenuously framed hit piece" that paints an "overwhelmingly chaotic and negative narrative" about the president and his team—carefully avoiding disputing any actual facts. Whipple calmly notes that "not a single fact in the piece has been contested," which is journalist-speak for "they’re mad we printed what they said." So the chief of staff confirms the chaos, the president confirms his addictive personality, and no one disputes the reporting—but sure, the real problem here is the framing.