With Reports Russia Is Giving Intelligence To Iran, Wonkette Asks: Is Trump Dead Yet?
A Serenity Prayer for 2026.
It’s day 411 of the New World Order, and OH SHIT, Trump spent his Saturday morning pondering doing a holocaust in Iran. And in another horrifying turn, reportedly Russia has been giving Iran intelligence to target US forces, allowing them to get through air defenses. But how could that be if Mr. Putin is Donald John Trump’s most beloved very best friend? Also the Washington Post has reported that the US is already running out of its most sophisticated air-defense missiles, like Terminal High Altitude Area Defense interceptors, though the regime says these things didn’t happen, and if they did it doesn’t matter. Every day is some verse of the narcissist’s prayer with these ghouls!
Surely the poor OPSEC has nothing to do with the Department of Homeland Security being headed by a sentient tube of lip filler (soon to be replaced by sentient Slim Jim Markwayne Mullin) and the Secretary of the Department of WAR doing his planning on a Signal group chat. Or Trump gutting agencies and driving out experts to replace them with loyal stupids, including hundreds at the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency and recently even his own handpicked nominee to lead it, or Pete Hegseth pausing cyber operations against Russia last year, or Tulsi Gabbard being Russia’s girlfriend and firing anyone beneath her who won’t make up intel that matches Dear Leader’s hallucinations. It doesn’t matter to any of them; no human lives matter to them but Trump’s and their own, the president has made himself very clear, thank you for your attention to this matter.
And then on Saturday morning Dear Leader pondered a holocaust of 90 million people.
There is reason to believe he’s not just joking. Hundreds of civilians have already died in the latest war-that-is-not-a-war in Iran, including more than 165 schoolgirls — that’s at one school, there have apparently already been three more — and six US servicemembers too so far. The risk of retaliatory terrorist attacks against US citizens and interests on US soil and around the globe is growing all the time; a Tesla-employee mass shooter in Austin last Sunday shot 19 people in a bar, killing three while waving an Iranian flag.
And in an interview with Time magazine’s Eric Cortellessa, the draft-dodging Commander-in-Chief expressed no concern even for the safety of his own citizens. In fact, he’s made it quite clear he does not care one single turd:
Asked whether Americans should be worried about retaliatory attacks at home, Trump acknowledges the possibility. “I guess,” he says. “But I think they’re worried about that all the time. We think about it all the time. We plan for it. But yeah, you know, we expect some things. Like I said, some people will die. When you go to war, some people will die.”
A week ago it was not a war, it was an operation, and it was going to be quick. Now it could be four weeks, five weeks, maybe forever until the apocalypse.
Whatever they call it, however long it lasts or how much it costs in innocent human lives or dollars, seems the Senate has no intention of trying to stop it. Shit happens. Sometimes schoolgirls will die when Pete Hegseth commits war crimes, but when have Senate Republicans ever cared about any schoolgirls other than the ones they’re trying to Venmo for sex?
People will die. And we do not want to die too soon ourselves stroking out trying to figure out all of the healthcare and education that the estimated $2 billion A DAY being spent on war right now could have bought.
People do die. Trump himself could even be dead right now. It’s possible that as you’re reading this, he has already ridden on a golden toilet into the Great Beyond. His human printer Margo Martin could be this minute standing and waiting with her ear pressed to the door, holding a ream of Tweets, having just heard the grunting and groaning stop from the other side and yet no flush. What to make of it, what to do? Should she knock, or summon someone? Wait to hear if he calls for help, or presses the button on his Life Alert?
Perhaps his hairpiece has already fallen off while his bloated, bruised body and spent high-mileage wangdonger bounces around under a series of fruitless defibrillating zaps. It could be that Code Mufasa or whatever has already been activated, and JD Vance is already sucking lozenges while downloading the speech he’s been perfecting over the past 1,130 days, blaming Democrats, immigrants, and Taylor Swift for murdering Tinkerbell Trump by not believing in him hard enough and showering him with pixie dust. The odds are not zero. Any second now all of our devices could ping with the news. Are you ready? Make sure next to your Jim Bakker basement Doomsday grub buckets in the basement there are also magnums of champagne and condoms!
But it is also true for everyone you love who is not in the room with you right now, that they could be dead already and you don’t know it, especially if you have loved ones in the Middle East or the military. And no matter how prepared you might think you are or try to be, there is no such thing. And THEN, the luckier you are, the longer you live and the more friends you make, the more loved ones you get to watch die. Maybe I am already dead. Maybe you are even already almost dead, a chip of blood clot has dislodged somewhere and is careening itself towards your destiny, and this slop will be the last thing you read. I’m sorry. The human condition is a cruelty.
And it’s going to get a lot crueler for us all before anything gets better. While the odds aren’t zero that Trump is dead, even at his age, it is much more likely that thousands more people will die first before he does.
Hug the ones you love! Let go of the bullshit! Make time for joy!
[Time Magazine / Washington Post gift link]





DIE YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!!!!
JUST FUCKING DIE!!! DIE DIE DIE!!!
He's a broken human with severe daddy issues and zero redeeming qualities, who is forcing America to deal with his own deep-seated trauma.
Even if he's gone tomorrow, we are never going back to anything resembling normalcy.