THE CHURLS ARE FIGHTING
Ooh baby, I needed this.
Hi friends!
This week was a year, but here we are, ending it strong with some ecstatic dancing on the grave of the most unhinged bromance in recent history. I, for one, a lifelong student of human behavior who is endlessly intrigued by the simple fragility of the male ego, doubted that the Trump/Musk alliance could even make it past Inauguration Day. Those two are both flagrant narcissists, but they’re not cut from the same cloth. Donald Trump is a classic schoolyard bully whose whole vibe is “shake them down for lunch money,” and Elon Musk is a classic dork who gets tricked into doing the bully’s math homework before he gets punched in the face (literally in Elon’s case) and then runs home to cry to his mommy. After yesterday’s tantrum, we’re all his mommy now.
I, like anyone with two eyes, an open heart, and half a brain in their head, could feel this coming. I don’t even think that can be chalked up to intuition, at least not in a woo-woo sense. The center cannot hold on anything right now and this marriage of convenience has been doomed since its first sordid vow. The divorce was always primed to be our messy reward, we just didn’t know how much longer we would have to persist before we could have our pizza party. Blessedly, it’s been mere days since Mr. Musk’s time in Washington has officially come to a close, and we, the people of the internet, have already received our pizza, our soda, the good chips we like, and hours of world-class posting to restore our dwindling will to live. Yay!
On Monday, after Elon appeared with a black eye in the Oval Office and the New York Times published that he’s been pissing himself from ketamine use for nearly a year — which, based on their timeline, means that he must have dribbled at least a little bit when he jumped on that rally stage back in October like a gawky preying mantis — I could sense something major was afoot and had to call my friend Jill to discuss.
Lately, I’ve taken to scheming up what I call “fuck this fic,” which is like “fan fic” in that it uses existing characters to tell a story outside of the canon, except that I hate these nasty motherfuckers, I am decidedly not a fan, and what I’m crafting is an entertaining vision around their downfall. And then, I speak it out loud for good measure. When I spoke to Jill, I told her that I thought Trump was on the verge of dying of natural causes (he’s probably too evil for that, but suspend your disbelief) and that once IT went down, the truth of what really happened in November would come out. She liked that idea. And then we spent a solid half hour discussing Kris Jenner’s recent, uncanny facelift that seems connected, somehow, to Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez’s upcoming wedding in Venice.
In these times, when it seems too many of us are one bad rabbit hole away from becoming pro-measles or crushing on Osama Bin Laden, I pride myself on not being a deranged conspiracy theorist. But I also must admit that I occasionally indulge and watch TikToks from both psychics and regular crazy people about how Trump had Elon steal the election using Starlink. And so, reading this post from yesterday made me horny as fuck:
Add this admission of election tampering to the news of what’s going on in Rockland County, where last Thursday, the case demanding a recount of all the votes cast in November’s presidential and senate elections was allowed to proceed to the evidence-gathering stage. Then pass the tin foil, mommy needs a new summer hat.
I know the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and it’s seductive, in this moment, when he is entertaining us like a high, neurodivergent party clown, to forget how disgusting Elon is — I’m a Scorpio, so I understand that proverb better than most — but be strong; it’s a safe bet that he will eventually try to get on Trump’s good side again. One wild thing about narcissists is that they will attack you viciously when they feel slighted, then they go back to business as usual before you’ve had a chance to even process the attack. But Donald Trump is not taking him back, because not only is Trump the alpha dog in this relationship, he’s the president and an old, demented man; when it comes to hubris, that’s an unbeatable triple threat. Even up against the triple threat of the world's richest man being a drug-addicted tech bro.
I mean, this morning Trump told CNN, “I’m not even thinking about Elon. He’s got a problem. The poor guy’s got a problem.”
So, yeah, everything is still wildly fucked, but at least we got to have some fun about it this week. To anyone raining on the parade — shut up, yeah, we know. And to the people thinking this is some elaborate image rehabilitation plan from Elon Musk to save Tesla? Look at what it did to the stock price, brah. Are you OK? I had to restrain myself from keying a Cybertruck just this very morning, so brand sentiment, as far as I’m concerned, remains beyond the pale.
We still don’t know what this madness will bring next, obviously, but what I do know is that my period synced to this event, and that usually only happens with full moons and the occasional solar eclipse, so I do think we’re in for a pretty major energetic shift.
Um, there are like 200 wildfires burning in the Canadian prairies right now? And the smoke is making its way across North America and all the way to Europe? Oy vey.
This isn’t good, for obvious reasons, but also multiple reliable sources let me know — pre-wildfires — that the great people of Canada are out of their minds currently. Fair enough. It used to be that they watched the shitshow in America with a nice bag of popcorn from the mezzanine. Now, Canada has been forced to participate, and Canadians are not equipped for this immersive experience, they’ve been forced, against their will, into a political version of Sleep No More.
I can’t wait to report back after I visit in July.
In the meantime, #PRAYFORCANADA as it is still our best chance at an escape hatch should we need to abandon this timeline and quickly populate the Rajneeshpuram I am vision boarding for myself (and my paid subscribers, duh).
Less Lessons More Blessin’s™
Liz
P.S. Alex, I need help with Old Man Summer hat logistics when you’re back from vacation.