Are You Not Entertained

The Rant speculates that any day now someone accused of murder will stand up in court and say, “Your honor, after a lot of soul-searching and tough reflection, I decided that even though some might not understand just how hard this has been for me, I really had to kill my spouse for the good of my family, the country, and the enormous life insurance policy I recently purchased. Regrets? Sure. Both drowning and then shooting my spouse made the accident claim a hard sell. To all the haters on social media, I would just say try planning a murder in the middle of soccer and dance season for the kids. Again, the hardest decision of my life. I’m not looking for any accolades here, and I won’t be the one to use the word hero, but after what I’ve suffered, jail time seems like piling on.”

You know, like how members of congress stand up, practically weeping, and try to communicate just how difficult it was, after screaming into a C-SPAN camera for the last ten years how, if they ran the circus, there would be no more deficits all while coming up with a new healthcare system that was so magical you would probably grow younger like those old coots in Cocoon,¹ to reach down deep and vote for a bill that ran counter to every hate-filled sound-bite in the rotunda and on Hannity to make sure their richest donors got even richer and the poor could prove once again just how lazy they are by dying even sooner without access to even basic health services. Do you think it gives them any pleasure watching the assisted-living facility roll your grandfather to the curb? No, sir, it does not. Not even the tinting on the their new chauffeured Maybach (Tax-cut perk. They really earned it.) can shield them from such things. Welcome to the new American definition of moral courage: Taking a moment to wring your hands and describe just how difficult it was to vote against everything you ever said you stood for; oh, and could we also get a pat on the back?

But enough of that. Let’s get to the party! Now that the Glorious Grifter has expressed his desire for a UFC match on the White House lawn, The Rant says, about time. On July 4! To celebrate our 250th birthday no less. The Rant briefly considered the event might be a brilliant satiric nod to the long history of violence that has always defined our nation. Then we started laughing so hard the staff briefly considered dialing 911² until they remembered we can no longer afford health insurance. Thanks agonized sell-outs.

But why stop there? Forget the undercard; give us a Green Card Battle Royale instead. ICE agents will scour their hellish, unsanitary detention camps for only the hardiest, dysentery-free migrants. Dozens will enter, but only one will emerge victorious with their very own legal status for only 713 easy monthly payments. Indentured servitude? Never heard of it. Did we mention the Hulkster will be reffing? What a steroid-addled treasure.³ No more worrying about ICE raids for our winner, unless of course they get swept up by accident and sent to a country they’ve never heard of, let alone immigrated from. No wonder we’re celebrating so hard.

And if Glorious Leader is going to allow tens of thousands of people to wander the grounds, The Rant demands a drive-thru in the White House. We suggest a combo Taco Bell/KFV (Kentucky Fried Vance). You haven’t tried a Vance Nugget? Cold and impenetrable on the outside, steaming hot and endlessly bitter on the inside. All white meat; KFV has no interest in your sinister poultry diversity initiatives. Don’t forget your Freedom Sauce, a tempting melange of condiment packets discovered between the seat cushions of artisan couches. Sorry, the actual process is proprietary. And very, very, upsetting. Of course everything is fried in beef tallow. Of course none of the employees have ever been vaccinated for anything, ever. We wouldn’t wait for your change. They’re not too quick on the cipherin’. They learned at home school numbers were invented by Muslims.

White House? Booooring. Let’s sell those sweet naming rights. Six Flags Over One Despot? Trump Casino? Nah, those always go bankrupt. As The Rant Worldwide Headquarters resides in Oklahoma, let’s give Woody Guthrie a shout out: The White House Presented by the Do Re Mi. Don’t worry though. As quickly as companies, countries, and people (Remember that Elon guy? Neither does The Rant) fall out of favor the name will be changing on a weekly basis. Thank goodness Bahrain gave Glorious Grifter his own sign company to cash in. Guess who has to cash out? You, tax-payer too weak to inherit a fortune and pay no taxes. Really poor planning on your part. Those other people earned their accidents of birth. Try not to think about it. Now about that Social Security you were counting on . . .

Outdoor monetized, let’s head inside and fatten up some cash cows. All cabinet members must now wear NASCAR jump suits with a minimum of 36 corporate sponsor patches. Look at those liquor companies lining up behind Pete Hegseth. The Rant finds it hilarious and terrifying Hegseth used a Senate confirmation hearing as his twelve-step program, pledging not to drink, at all dude, if named Secretary of Defense. Like your teenager telling you to stay out of their room since they don’t have any pot in there. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent may collapse under the weight of all the payday loan logos⁴ he’s sporting. Bessent sums it up nicely while determining the value of the dollar by bobbing for Bitcoin⁵ in the Cracker Barrel West Wing: “Look, if ruining the financial health of the country for the next six generations is good for America, it’s good enough for your family too.”

What other exciting events might be coming our way? Evangelicals vs Unitarians to the death in the Depends Colosseum⁶ while Melania feeds Glorious Corpulence grapes?⁷ Stephen Miller’s hilarious comedy stand-up special, “If You’re Not Laughing I Guess You’re Not American,”⁸ live from the Rose Garden Chuckle Hut? The Wrangler Jeans Boot Licking and Ring Kissing Time Trials (“Marco Rubio in rare toady form today!”) held, as always, inside the abandoned conscience of Senator Lisa Murkowski.⁹

So many possibilities the mind reels. Of course The Rant will never be able to afford tickets to any of it, now that the Captains of Capitulation have taken away any chance of getting that Do Re Mi.

1. Did you know they used to let old people that actually looked like old people be in movies? Crazy right? Not an implant to be seen or a face stretched so taught you’re afraid their skull might burst right out of there like Alien. Later, The Rant will tell you how we used to count back change with paper money and coins. Punks.
2. In reality, only our Chief Morale Officer, a dog named Tater, trotted over to express concern and lick our nose. Take solace where you can get it is The Rant’s outlook.
3. Coming soon from Topps, get your very own Steroid-Addled Treasures trading cards. The Barry Bonds card has already hit six figures. It’s a double-wide specialty issue so they could fit his head in the picture.
4. Industry slogan: It’s not loan sharking if there’s paperwork.
5. More than delusional monetary policy, it’s just plain, wholesome fun.
6. “Let’s get ready to soil ourselves!” Keep Michael Buffer on speed dial.
7. The Rant understands we might need to burn another trillion to lure Melania back to the White House, but watching that icy stare she employs around Glorious Philanderer, “It might get stabby in here,” totally worth it.
8. Weirdly, the entire set is just jokes plagiarized from Richard Pryor’s Live on the Sunset Strip
9. Has anyone ever made an entire career out of explaining how she almost did the right thing this time but just couldn’t like Murkowski? And gets applauded as some sort of Great Voice of Moderation while confirming every train wreck cabinet nominee and judge and voting yes on every punishing piece of legislation? Good work if you can get it.