Every day, in what seems to be a never-ending episode of “As the Swamp Turns,” the new Trump 2.0 Administration is busy sifting through the murky waters of government waste. It’s like when your mom finally asks about that science project you swore you turned in, but really, it’s languishing under a mountain of Xbox games and pizza boxes. Bureaucrats everywhere are trembling in their corner offices, clutching their government-issued coffee mugs as the Department of Justice sends a simple request: “What exactly are you doing with our taxpayers’ dollars?” Cue the hysteria.
CNN’s newly rehired Brian Stelter, clearly thrilled to have landed at his old stomping ground, is having a field day trying to paint this effort as nonsense. That’s right, asking someone to say what they did last week is now akin to witchcraft. For your average Joe, who’s used to justifying his paycheck, this is called, surprise, surprise, common sense. But for some in the grand halls of government, accountability seems as foreign as a Diet Coke in a hipster coffee shop.
Spare a thought for one employee who dashed to CNN to cry foul over an email demanding a mere list of five things they’d done in a week—or face unemployment. The horror! In the real world, this is just another Monday, but in government land, it’s the premise of a dystopian novel. They’re screeching about intimidation tactics and privatization schemes led by none other than Elon Musk, as if he’s the villain twirling a mustache in a silent film. Meanwhile, the only thing Elon seems to be twirling is the remote of a Tesla.
But hey, it wouldn’t be a good drama without some comic relief. Enter Joy Reid, bidding adieu to her show on MSNBC and lamenting her exit with a tearful farewell. Her tenure was apparently a beacon for exploring grievances about white people and echoing the beloved term “Karen” as if it were a catchy pop song chorus. Yet, ironic as it is, even her own network couldn’t get on board with the “all-white tears are bad” narrative, seeing as they seem to be doing a roster cleanse. Who knew television politics could be more cutthroat than a reality TV finale?
In the grand conclusion of this soap opera, let’s check in on Kamala Harris, the ever-indecisive contestant possibly eyeing a gubernatorial role in the post-apocalyptic movie set formerly known as California. Touring fire-ravaged zones, she describes infernos like she’s reading the weather, missing questions about action plans in favor of waxing poetic on the ambiance. Politics, after all, is about selling an idea, even if that idea involves marketing smoke as a lifestyle choice.
And thus, the saga continues. With each passing day, it becomes clearer why certain concepts, like accountability and action, seem so novel within the walls of power. But hey, if nothing else, it’s entertainment—not unlike a good comedy, only with higher stakes and a lot more taxpayer money on the line.
