J.D. Vance’s Ego Just Got a Tourist Detained

In a story that sounds like it was ripped from The Onion but was sadly reported by actual newspapers, Vice President JD Vance has found a new way to embarrass America on the world stage: by getting a Norwegian tourist detained, harassed, and ultimately denied entry into the United States … over a meme.

Yes, a meme.

According to Nordlys, a Norwegian news outlet, traveler Mads Mikkelsen (no, not the actor) flew into Newar Liberty International Airport on a trip to visit friends in New York City, continue on to Austin, Texas, and finally meet up with his mother to tour the U.S. national parks. That is, until he was flagged by customs agents — not for any actual crime, but because his phone contained a funny picture of J.D. Vance.

Mikkelsen says he was pulled aside by U.S. border officials, stripped of his shoes, backpack, and phone, and interrogated in a room surrounded by armed guards. Officials grilled him on drug trafficking, terrorism, and right-wing extremism — all without the slightest indication that he was involved in any of it.

He described the ordeal as “an abuse of power and harassment,” saying, “I had traveled for twelve hours, slept poorly, and was physically and mentally completely exhausted even before they started questioning.”

After being threatened with prison time or a $5,000 fine unless he unlocked his phone — again, over nothing — Mikkelsen complied. That’s when officials discovered a meme of Vice President Vance, in which Vance’s face is grotesquely bloated and distorted for comedic effect. The meme went viral after Vance’s infamous Oval Office tantrum during a meeting with Trump and Ukranian President Volodymyr Zelensky, where Vance berated Zelensky in a petulant, scolding tone that made even some Republicans cringe.

Apparently, the meme touched a nerve.

The agents also found a photo of Mikkelsen holding a homemade wooden pipe. That, too, became evidence — not of wrongdoing, but of the apparent thoughtcrime of making MAGA look bad. “Both pictures had automatically saved to my camera roll from a chat app,” Mikkelsen explained. “I really didn’t think these innocent pictures would stop me from entering the country.”

But stop him they did. Officials fingerprinted him, took blood samples, and tossed him into a holding cell. “It felt like I was a terrorist suspect,” he said. “I tried to pull myself together several times, but in the end, I just wanted to go home again.”

He never made it out of the airport. He was deported.

Welcome to the New America: Where memes are a national security threat.

This is authoritarian behavior, full stop. This is how you treat people in a surveillance state. And this isn’t some isolated case — it’s part of a disturbing pattern where the MAGA regime lashes out at criticism, jokes, or even art, as if the First Amendment is an asterisk next to it now.

It’s the kind of behavior that makes America look paranoid, insecure, and hostile, not just to its own citizens, but to the rest of the world. Why would tourists want to come here if their phones are going to be searched for satire?

Instead of promoting freedom, MAGA is exporting fear. Instead of welcoming visitors, they’re detaining them over memes. And instead of leading the world, we’re becoming a punchline.

If you’re wondering why the American tourism industry is struggling, this is it. If you’re wondering why foreign allies are side-eyeing us, this is it. And if you’re wondering whether the MAGA movement is thin-skinned, authoritarian, and completely detached from reality then this is definitely it.

J.D. Vance didn’t just get roasted in a meme. He got humiliated on the global stage, and instead of laughing it off like a normal person, his cronies treated a tourist like a threat.

America isn’t great when it’s scared of jokes.

Trump Doesn’t Hire the Best People–He Hires the Most Obedient

Donald Trump ran for president on the promise that he’d hire “the best people.” What we got instead was a revolving door of sycophants, grifters, and opportunists–many of whom ended up resigning in disgrace, flipping on him in investigations, or publicly admitting they were just along for the ride. The pattern is clear: Trump doesn’t value confidence. He values loyalty. Un-questioning, cult-like loyalty.

It’s not about skills or expertise. It’s about saying “yes sir” even when the ship is sinking.

Need proof? Let’s take a tour.

Rex Tillerson: Trump’s first Secretary of State and former ExxonMobil CEO, was reportedly called a “moron” by Trump–and left after constant clashes.

John Bolton: former National Security Advisor, said Trump didn’t even know Finland wasn’t part of Russia.

William Barr: Trump’s second Attorney General, admitted post-2020 election that Trump’s fraud cases were baseless–after enabling them just long enough to keep his job.

By the end of his first term, Trump had burned through most of the people who had any shred of integrity or independence. His cabinet and advisors had been turned over so many times, it started to look like speed dating at a Banana Republic junta.

But instead of learning from that chaos, Trump doubled down.

After losing the 2020 election — and refusing to accept it — Trump filled his inner circle with election deniers, legal cranks, and sycophants willing to do or say anything to stay in his good graces. The “best people” were long gone. What remained were yes-men, power-chasers, and people whose careers had nowhere to go except deeper into Trumpworld.

Let’s look at a few:

Jeffrey Clark: A low-level DOJ lawyer Trump tried to install as Acting Attorney General because Clark was willing to push election fraud claims the rest of the DOJ refused to endorse.

Rudy Giuliani: Once “America’s mayor,” reduced to leaking hair dye while babbling about dead Venezuelan dictators rigging voting machines.

Sidney Powel: One who promised to “release the Kraken” and ended up releasing nothing but lawsuits that courts laughed out of the room.

Peter Navarro: Pitched “Green Bay Sweep” plan to overturn the election — and then got indicted.

Kash Patel and Johnny McEntee: Young loyalists with almost no relevant experience, given increasing power simply for saying “yes” to Trump and echoing his grievances.

Pete Hegseth: A Fox News talking head and professional culture warrior. Someone who wasn’t hired because he had the chops to manage massive bureaucracies or make strategic decisions, but because he praised Trump on TV and fed him exactly what he wanted to hear.

Linda McMahon: Someone who got a spot as one of Trump’s picks because she and her husband donated $6 million to a pro-Trump super PAC

This is what a Trump administration looks like: cable news hosts, podcasters, wrestling executives, conspiracy peddlers, and cash donors pretending to be a government. Not a cabinet — a fan club. Not a team of rivals — a team of sycophants

Trump’s not building a cabinet, he’s casting a reboot of The Apprentice: White House Edition. Only this time, instead of “You’re fired,” it’s the Constitution getting voted off the island.

Trump’s Iran War Talk Is Bush’s Iraq Invasion All Over Again

Donald Trump is at it again—saber-rattling about going to war with Iran. In recent speeches, he’s said things like, “We’re gonna have to hit Iran hard” and warned that Iran is “begging” for war. It’s the kind of talk that grabs headlines, fires up his base, and echoes the kind of imperial chest-beating that led us into Iraq in 2003.

If this feels familiar, it’s because we’ve seen this movie before. Trump is playing the same tired role George W. Bush did: the tough-talking cowboy standing up to the “axis of evil,” ready to bomb another country under the banner of “freedom” and “security.” But behind the performance lies the same playbook of distraction, destruction, and empire.

In the early 2000s, the Bush administration spent months building a case for invading Iraq—claiming Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction, was connected to terrorism, and posed an existential threat to the U.S. None of it held up. But it didn’t matter. The invasion went forward, and the Middle East has been on fire ever since.

Now, with Israel’s brutal assault on Gaza drawing worldwide condemnation, the U.S. political class is eager to shift the narrative. And Iran—a longtime enemy and convenient scapegoat—is the perfect target. Trump’s recent comments aren’t just random bluster; they’re part of a larger strategy to re-center American power and to justify further U.S. entanglement in the region.

Bush lied about WMDs. Trump talks about Iranian “proxies.” Same trick, different jargon.

Yes, Iran supports armed groups in the region—so do we. The U.S. backs Israel’s military campaign with billions of dollars and weapons. Calling Iran the aggressor while ignoring our own role is imperial hypocrisy at its finest.

Just like Bush made Saddam into a caricature of evil to justify regime change, Trump is doing the same with Iran’s leadership. He paints them as irrational monsters, despite the fact that most of their actions have been responses to U.S. sanctions, assassinations, and Israeli airstrikes.

When presidents talk war, it’s rarely about what they say it is. For Bush, Iraq was about oil, military contracts, and reshaping the Middle East in America’s image. For Trump, war talk with Iran is a distraction from his legal problems, a way to appear “tough”, and a means of keeping the U.S. permanently tied to Israel’s military agenda.

Just like in 2003, the corporate media amplifies the danger without challenging the narrative. And just like then, liberals wring their hands but refuse to name the deeper problem: American imperialism and its bipartisan addiction to war.

Let’s not forget what war with Iran would mean. Iran isn’t Iraq. It’s bigger, more organized, and has powerful allies. A war would be catastrophic—not just for Iranians, but for the entire region. It would mean more dead civilians, more displaced families, more anti-American hatred, and another generation traumatized by endless war.

We’ve already seen what U.S. regime-change efforts do: Iraq, Libya, Syria, Afghanistan. Each time, we’re told it’ll be quick, clean, and necessary. Each time, it ends in chaos.

Trump’s talk about war with Iran isn’t just dangerous—it’s a rerun of a bloody imperialist strategy that never ended. It’s Bush in 4K, with the same script and higher stakes.

If we want peace, we have to reject this cycle. That means opposing war no matter who’s selling it—Trump, Biden, or anyone else. And it means finally confronting the empire that keeps dragging us—and the world—into ruin.

Does Socialism Stifle Creativity?

One of the oldest, dustiest arguments against socialism and communism is that they supposedly stifle individuality and creativity. No more artists, no more inventors, no more rebels, just gray uniforms, gray buildings, and gray minds.

This idea gets dragged out every time someone suggests workers deserve rights or billionaires shouldn’t exist. But here’s the truth:

This claim is propaganda and it’s tired.

Yes, in some authoritarian regimes that simply called themselves communist (Stalin’s USSR or Mao’s China), artistic and intellectual repression happened. That’s real. But equating all socialism with state authoritarianism is like saying all capitalism is just Enron and child labor in sweatshops.

Authoritarianism stifles creativity. Not socialism.

Let’s flip the script.

Capitalism loves to parade around as the champion of individuality. But unless your creativity makes more money? It’s worthless.

Under capitalism:

If your art doesn’t sell, it doesn’t matter.
If your innovation can’t be patented or monetized, tough luck.
If you’re too exhausted from your soul-crushing job to create? Oh well.

Creativity under capitalism is only celebrated if it turns a profit. Everything else? It gets buried.

Socialism doesn’t kill creativity. It frees it.

Under democratic socialism or libertarian socialism or anarcho-communism, creativity can actually flourish. Why?

Basic needs are met. You’re not working three jobs just to survive. You have time to think and make things.

Your worth isn’t tied to profit. You don’t need your poem to be a product. Your band doesn’t have to blow up on Spotify to matter.

Community matters. Creativity isn’t just for clout, it’s for connection.

Imagine millions of people who are free to paint, code, write, build, and dream — not because it’s marketable, but because it’s meaningful.

Let’s talk about some actual socialists:

George Orwell wrote 1984 and Animal Farm as a democratic socialist.

Albert Camus was anti-authoritarian, anti-capitalist, and deeply creative.

Nina Simone was a radical, a revolutionary, and raw.

Kurt Vonnegut was openly socialist and still endlessly imaginative.

Entire movements — Soviet avant-garde, worker theatre, Cuban film collectives, Indigenous co-ops — were built on socialist principles.

And let’s not forget that Marx and Kropotkin were writing philosophy and science, not just manifestos.

Bottom line: if communism killed creativity, we wouldn’t have all the radical art, music, theory, and rebellion.

If capitalism encouraged creativity, you wouldn’t be drowning in Marvel sequels, AI sludge, and corporate TikToks trying to go viral by pretending to be relatable.

So no. Socialism doesn’t stifle creativity. Capitalism just wants you to believe that so you don’t imagine something better.

36 Chambers and a Molotov Cocktail

I’ve been to a lot of rock and metal shows. I’ve seen every one from Elton John to the Eagles, to Primus, to Tool, to Metallica, to Pantera, to Breaking Benjamin, to Alice In Chains, to Korn, to Ozzy. Never got to see Black Sabbath though and that still bums me out.

Tonight though I witnessed my first rap/hip-hop concert. The audience felt less like an audience and more like a movement. It wasn’t just a concert, it was a rite of passage — my first rap show — and I didn’t ease into it. I dove headfirst into the deep end with Wu-Tang Clan and Run the Jewels: two of the most politically charged, lyrically lethal acts in hip-hop, sharing one stage. I went in a fan and I came out changed.

Run the Jewels opened with a set that hit like a riot in real time. Killer Mike’s voice boomed like a preacher with nothing left to lose, and El-P brought the anarchic genius that turns every line into a Molotov. They didn’t warm the crowd up — the lit the fuse. Songs like “Close Your Eyes (And Count to Fuck)” didn’t just make people jump, they made people feel. Rage, solidarity, defiance. Their set felt like a call to arms disguised as a beat drop.

And then came Wu-Tang. The entire clan minus ODB took the stage like gods descending from Olympus, if Olympus was built from turntables and graffiti. Although ODB wasn’t there, his spirit was in the form of his son, Young Dirty Bastard, who tore through “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” with his dad’s chaotic energy and then some. The crowd went berserk.

They performed the hits: “C.R.E.A.M.,” Protect Ya Neck,” “Triumph,” but it was more than nostalgia. These songs still hit, still reflect the system’s cracks, still speak for the voiceless. You don’t watch Wu-Tang, you join Wu-Tang, even if just for a night. Every shout of, “Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nothin to Fuck Wit!” felt like a rejection of everything fake, shallow, and manufactured in the world we’re stuck in.

This wasn’t just music. It was a resistance. It was survival. It was Black art as both celebration and protest, and I felt lucky just to be in the room.

And now? I’m wired. I’m sore, but wired. I want to do something with the fire they handed me. Whether it’s writing, organizing, protesting, or just refusing to shut up … something.

Music can do that. The right music, anyway. Not the algorithm-filled garbage designed to numb us, but the raw stuff that tells the truth, names the enemy, and makes you want to burn something down.

Tonight reminded me: art matters. Culture matters. Resistance has rhythm. And sometimes the most radical thing you can do is turn the volume up until the walls start shaking.

Wu-Tang is for the children. RTJ is for the revolution. And I’m just getting started.

The Duopoly is a Disease

In the land of the free, we are given a choice every election cycle: Red or Blue. Coke or Pepsi. The illusion of choice wrapped in patriotic fanfare. But beneath the spectacle lies a truth most Americans feel in their gut but rarely say out loud: the two party system is a rigged game, a duopoly that has hijacked our democracy.

The Democratic and Republican parties are not ideological opposites; they are co-managers of an empire. One plays good cop while the other plays bad cop, but both serve the same masters: corporations, lobbyists, and the wealthy. They compete for power the way monopolists “compete”: by making sure no true alternative ever gains traction.

Independent and third-party candidates are routinely locked out of debates, buried by media blackouts, and crushed by impossible ballot access laws. Why? Because both parties know that real competition would expose how little they offer beyond symbolic bickering and bipartisan stagnation.

The duopoly thrives on division. Democrats and Republicans whip their bases into a frenzy over culture issues while quietly agreeing on endless war, corporate welfare, and mass surveillance. It’s no accident. The spectacle distracts us while they pass the same bloated Pentagon budgets and sell off public goods to private hands.

Gridlock isn’t a bug, it’s a feature. It keeps meaningful reform off the table. Medicare for All? Dead on arrival. A living wage? Maybe by 2050. Climate action? Let’s ask ExxonMobil how fast we can move. The duopoly ensures nothing truly threatens their donors’ profits.

Leftist movements such as socialists, anarchists, and greens are smeared or ignored not because they’re fringe, but because they challenge the core of the system: capitalism, imperialism, police power. The establishment doesn’t fear chaos, it fears organization. It fears a population that realizes there are more than two ways to govern ourselves.

Likewise, when libertarians call for ending wars or dismantling the surveillance state, they’re treated as dangerous radicals. Any idea outside the red-blue matrix must be neutralized.

So what’s the way out?

Break the machine.

It starts with refusing to legitimize the duopoly. Don’t let “vote blue no matter who” or “lesser evilism” guilt you into obedience. Demand more: ranked-choice voting, proportional representation, ballot access reform, we need mass political education and direct action.

We need to organize outside their system. That means building dual power: worker co-ops, mutual aid networks, radical unions, and community councils that don’t wait for permission from Washington. The future won’t be won in the voting booth alone. It will be built in the streets, on picket lines, and in the quiet rebellion of everyday people saying “enough is enough.”

The bottom line is this: the two party system is not a democracy. It’s monopoly politics. It doesn’t represent us. It contains us. And like all monopolies, it must be broken.

We don’t need better Democrats or nicer Republicans. We need a new system entirely, one that serves people and not profits.

The Government Just Gave Itself Permission to Ignore the Law

Let’s not sugarcoat this: the U.S. government is gutting what little remains of “checks and balances,” and most people are too distracted or disillusioned to notice.

Buried inside a House bill—unrelated to taxes, mind you—is a ticking time bomb aimed directly at the rule of law. A quiet little provision would block all funding to enforce contempt of court orders. Read that again. If this passes, the executive branch can ignore court rulings with zero consequences. It’s not just a loophole—it’s a license to violate the Constitution.

Professor Erwin Chemerinsky, a constitutional law expert, laid it out plainly: if the government defies a judge, nothing can be done to force compliance. No enforcement. No consequences. No rule of law. “The greatest effect of adopting the provision,” he warns, “would be to make countless existing judicial orders unenforceable.” Translation: the courts become a theater of empty gestures, while the executive runs wild.

This isn’t theoretical. The Trump administration has already ignored court orders, including the Supreme Court’s ruling to return Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia from a black-site-style detention in El Salvador. They just didn’t do it. And now? They’re trying to make that standard operating procedure.

This is what a dying democracy looks like: not in flames, but in red tape and fine print. Congress didn’t vote to abolish the Constitution—they just cut its funding.If you still think the system can be fixed from within, ask yourself: What happens when the system rewrites the rules to ignore its own crimes?

This is not just a Trump issue. This is a bipartisan rot. They’ve built a government that polices protestors, jails whistleblowers, and spies on everyone—but suddenly when it comes to holding itself accountable, it’s “too expensive” to enforce the law?

The lesson is clear: the government does not fear the courts. It fears accountability. And it will rewrite reality itself to avoid it.

Burn your illusions. The state is not your protector. It’s a self-perpetuating power machine, and it just found a way to cut the brakes.

Even Elon Musk Thinks the New “Big Beautiful Bill” is a Joke

You know a bill is bad when even Apartheid Clyde — the meme king of capitalism and Trump’s former efficiency czar — calls it out.

Apartheid Clyde took aim at the Republican-backed “One Big Beautiful Bill Act,” (yes, that’s the actual name of the bill. No, I’m not shitting you.) It’s a monstrosity of legislation that somehow manages to combine massive tax cuts for the rich, bloated defense spending, Medicaid restrictions, and a fresh punch in the gut to clean energy. And just like that, Republicans have found a way to spend trillions while pretending they’re fiscally conservative.

Apartheid Clyde, who once led the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) under Trump, publicly slammed the bill for ballooning the deficit and betraying the message of DOGE. “It can be big or beautiful, not both,” Musk quipped, a rare moment of clarity from someone who once called himself a “free speech absolutist” while banning critics from Twitter (I’m still never calling it “X.”)

Let’s be real: Apartheid Clyde isn’t exactly a paragon of progressive virtue. This is the guy who spends his time playing CEO cosplay and beefing with journalists online. But when even he is sounding the alarm on a Republican spending bill, you know it’s not just ugly — it’s a Trojan horse stuffed with billionaire tax breaks and red meat for MAGA donors.

The Congressional Office Budget estimates this “beautiful” disaster will add $3.8 trillion to the national debt over the next decade. That’s more than the GDP of Germany, and somehow, the Republicans still claim we “can’t afford” student loan forgiveness or universal healthcare.

So why is Apartheid Clyde breaking ranks now? Simple. The bill fucks with his brand. It undercuts clean energy (bad for Tesla), bloats defense (bad for his whole “efficiency” thing), and makes him look like a sucker for ever aligning with Mango Mussolini in the first place. Self-interest is a hell of a drug.

Still, his critique opens a window: when even a techno-libertarian billionaire thinks the GOP has lost the plot, maybe it’s time to stop pretending they ever had one. The “Big Beautiful Bill” isn’t governance. It’s graft dressed up in patriotic drag.

If you’re pissed about this bill, don’t just laugh at Apartheid Clyde’s tweets. Organize. Disrupt. And remember: the people writing this legislation don’t care if you live, as long as they get paid.

Burn It Down

Not with fire and torches. It’s time to accept what we already know deep down: this system is broken beyond repair. No amount of voting, begging, or incremental reform is going to fix the rotting corpse of capitalism. We’re not dealing with a system that needs tweaks. We’re dealing with a system that feeds on exploitation, shits out injustice, and hands us a smiley face sticker for surviving another day under it.

We keep getting told we just need to be patient. That change is slow. That “the adults are in charge.” Meanwhile, the planet’s boiling, wages are stagnant, housing is a scam, billionaires are playing god, and the police still treat poor people like target practice.

How much more do we need to see before we admit this isn’t a glitch … it’s the design?

We don’t need to fix the system. We need to replace it. All of it. The politics, the economy, the structures that define who gets to live with dignity and who gets ground into dust. We’ve spent decades duct-taping injustice and calling it progress. That era’s over. It’s time for a clean break.

We need to start over. From scratch. Build something that works for everyone.

That means no more letting the wealthy write the rules. No more pretending corporations are people. No more parties that pretend to fight each other while feasting at the same donor buffet. No more bootlicking billionaires like they’re gods just because they hoarded enough money to make themselves unaccountable.

Let’s stop asking how we can work within the system. Start asking how we can undermine it. How can we hack it, sabotage it, expose it, and ultimately make it irrelevant.

It’s not radical to want food, housing, healthcare, and freedom. What’s radical is tolerating a system that denies those things in the name of “freedom.” What’s radical is watching the wealthy hoard enough money to end world hunger while telling the rest of us to work harder.

We are not obligated to keep this going. We don’t owe this system our loyalty. The people in power want us to believe we’re powerless without them. But the truth is that they’re nothing without us.

It’s time to organize. To disrupt. To create parallel systems. Mutual aid, worker co-ops, community defense, direct action, cyber sabotage, mass noncompliance — whatever it takes to grind the gears and flip the switch.

Overthrow doesn’t have to look like a revolution with marching bands and guillotines. (Though … you never know.) It can look like refusing to play along. It can look like walking away from the scripts they hand us and writing something new.

This isn’t a call to chaos. It’s a call to clarity. The future is not going to be handed to us — we have to take it.

Tear it down. Start over. Let’s build something worth living in.

I’m Not a Liberal, I Just Make Sense: Why Labels Fall Short

It happens all the time. I challenge right-wing talking points, call out capitalist exploitation, or support basic human rights, and suddenly — boom — I’m a “liberal.” As if that’s the end of the discussion. As if being anti-fascist or pro-worker automatically plants me squarely in the Democratic Party’s center-left garden.

Let me be clear: I am not a liberal. I just live in a country so far to the right that calling for universal healthcare, climate action, or labor rights feels like revolution.

Why people call me a liberal:

I argue with conservatives.
- Apparently, in the American binary brain, if you’re not parroting Fox News or defending billionaires, you must be a Democrat. The idea that there’s something to the left of liberals is unthinkable to many.
I care about people
- When you defend the poor, the unhoused, immigrants, or even the basic right not to die from lack of insulin, people assume you’re a part of the “bleeding heart” liberal crowd. As if compassion is a party platform rather than a moral baseline.
I don’t support Trump
- That alone gets you painted blue in some circles. Never mind that opposing authoritarianism, racism, or conspiracy cults isn’t a matter of party loyalty — it’s basic sanity.

Why I’m not a liberal

Liberals love capitalism. I want to overthrow it.
- Liberals think the system is mostly fine and just needs tweaks. I think the system is fundamentally broken and built on exploitation. We don’t need nicer capitalism — we need a new world.
Liberals believe in reform. I believe in rupture.
- Liberals put their faith in voting, committees, and incrementalism. I believe the change we need won’t come from polite asks or polished speeches. It’ll come from disruption, pressure, and direct action.
Liberals want to return to “normal.” I want to move forward.
- “Normal” gave us Trump, climate collapse, and a society that treats people as disposable. I don’t want to go back. I want something radically better.
Liberals apologize for empire. I oppose it.
- Whether it’s war, coups, or sanctions, liberals rarely challenge American imperialism. I do — because solidarity shouldn’t stop at our borders.

So what am I?

Call me a leftist. A socialist. A troublemaker. An anti-capitalist. A human being tired of being told the best we can do is Joe Biden or Kamala Harris with a side of despair. Just don’t call me a liberal.

Because I’m not here to make capitalism kinder. I’m here to make it history.