America In Crisis

Trump and Taylor and Travis are exactly the problem. Somebody help!

I went on vacation in late June and took the family over to sweaty ass Europe for 12 days to catch up on carbs and cousins and really late night World Cup matches. It was nice to get a reprieve from the toilet swirl that is American politics circa 2026, or at least it was a nice attempt at a reprieve, because some news items broke through even the Wall of Heat™ that was my trip and reminded me of just how off the rails everything remains.

Case in point: As Americans continue to try and find healthcare, homes, and hamburger meat that they can afford, America’s Sweetheart & Sweethunk, Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce, made the incomprehensible decision to buy out Madison Square Garden and cover the beer-soaked 22-thousand seater in peach chiffon and fill it with potted trees and a fake castle to celebrate their blessed union.

Setting aside the questionable financial and aesthetic decision-making here, was there a reason to stage the *royal wedding* on 7th Fucking Avenue right before the 4th of July—other than the egos of the two people involved? Someone could probably have politely pointed out to T&T that there are forests and chateaus for these kinds of things, ones which do not involve the involvement of the mayor of America’s largest city, the mobilization of the NYPD and also, conveniently, require far less peach chiffon.

Still, as the details of the event leaked out, the choice of location seems like the least tone-deaf aspect of PeT&T Trianon (that’s a Marie Antoinette reference, IYKYK). A thousand celebrities—Brad Pitt and Bradley Cooper and Lena Dunham and Nikki Glaser and Ciara and Nelly and Conan O’Brien and Dakota Johnson and Emma Stone and Reese Witherspoon and Jessica Alba and Jessica Chastain and Greta Gerwig and Laura Dern and Zoe Kravitz and Ed Sheeran and Miranda Lambert and Gracie Abrams and J-Lo and Selena Gomez and Sabrina Carpenter and Paul McCartney and George Stephanopoulos and Ronan Farrow and Michael Strahan and Erin Andrews and Stephen Colbert and Gigi Hadid and Karlie Kloss and Hugh Grant and Tom Hanks and Jason Sudeikis and Liam Hemsworth and Simone Biles and Steven Spielberg and GRONK and Tom Brady and Tommy Hilfiger and Uzo Aduba and Wayne Gretzky—I’m sorry are more than five of these people actually their friends? What in the shit is going on here? Adam Sandler officiated the proceedings, because at that point, there was probably no turning back: Celebrity or die.

Since LOL remaining “secretive” and “inconspicuous” was now the name of the game here, all of these one thousand friends arrived for the ceremony in giant black SUVs and were swiftly escorted (via tent) into the marriage arena. The only morsels thrown to the hamburger-desperate public were a few paparazzi shots of the A-listers in the backseats of their limos and/or conspicuous social media posts celebrating guest outfits for the nupT&Tials. Let them eat Instagram!

Once inside, like any bacchanal of the top .0001 percent, Cartier watches were given away, as were designer handbags and, apparently, a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle, because—why not? What to give people who have everything? More of everything! It should be noted that at some point during planning preparations, T&T perhaps understood that this level of elite excess might seem, I dunno, out of touch with these increasingly desperate times, and opted to pre-emptively give away $26 million dollars to charity, and also issue a very strict No Gifts edict to Brad and Karlie and Gronk et al. The foresight!

At the same time as this spectacle of late-empire consumption was unfolding in New York City, the President of the United States was—once again—taking all of his small dick insecurity petty political grievances and funneling them into a disastrous 4th of July celebration meant to fluff his ego and own the flags-and-fireworks hating libs.

In addition to the catastrophic re-aquarization of the Reflecting Pool and the staggering cost of several, bullshit, pre-semiquincentennial no-bid beautification contracts (the ballroom and the gilding of horse statues, among other urgent public projects), Trump planned a Great American State Fair that not all the states in America participated in, and that was, by most accounts, a Great American Fail:

For much of the week, as it grappled with thin crowds, the event was hit by a series of negative headlines. Images of the Confederate flag were removed from North Carolina’s booth. A section of the main stage fell to the floor, narrowly missing a troupe of dancers, during rehearsals. And some prices at food and snack stalls, from turkey legs for $23 to “red, white and blue” ice for $7, were certainly unforgettable.

Capping off this season of American triumphalism, Trump then reportedly overrode the guidance of every single government agency and went ahead with a planned 4th of July speech on the National Mall, despite serious storm warnings that would put the lives of tens of thousands of attendees at risk. Even as the thunderclouds rolled in, the Commander in Chief was urging people to party hard and fuck the lightning, posting to Truth Social:

“Storms bring luck to whatever the occasion. They also make events a little bit more exciting! We will wait it out.... It’s Saturday night, LETS HAVE SOME FUN, even if we are out late tonight,” he posted just after 9 p.m.

Exciting is one word for it!

After nearly 100 people had to seek medical care for the extreme heat, here’s what happened when (duh) the predicted storm rolled in and the rally had to be postponed at the very last minute:

Exits backed up. Some people complained that it was unclear where they should head, and the scene grew increasingly tense. Social media video showed people yelling back at security personnel and National Guard troops flipping over a table to try to convince people to flee…

[A]s the evacuation began, the crush of people, maze of barricades and web of law enforcement made it hard for [attendees] to find their way out.

When the Mad King was finally able to summon people back to the Mall, the crowd had thinned, considerably. Why is why the President spent much of his time on July 5th and 6th fuming over—wait for it—his crowd size and trying, desperately, to convince the media that there were historic numbers of people who had gathered to celebrate the 4th of July Donald Trump.

I guess vanity is all the most powerful and public people in our country now care about. Okay fine, the rich and famous have always been vain, but the sheer audaciousness of these twin events this past weekend—Trump’s Independence Day ego trip and the NYC NupT&Tials—represent a high water mark for self aggrandizement in our increasingly sick, weakened society. If we learned anything this weekend, it’s that next year, maybe America’s 4th of July celebration can just take place indoors—someone just needs to bring a lot of peach chiffon and lock the doors to keep the riff raff out.