Greetings once more, Earthlings. It is I, Xylb’tok of Mars, still watching your species stagger about like a toddler on roller skates after three espressos. You’ve outdone yourselves again this week: free speech was redefined as ‘only if the Pentagon signs off first,’ your Orange Overlord turned the UN into his personal open-mic night, and somewhere in Canada an ambassador decided that citizens standing up to bullying is “anti-American.”
Add to that Trump threatening to sue Disney for failing to cancel Jimmy Kimmel, a Tylenol ‘ban’ pulled out of his tangerine derrière, and the Nobel Prize aspirations of a man who thinks Armenia borders Cambodia – and frankly, I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or send over a care package of sedatives.
The Disney melodrama
This week, Disney performed a pirouette so sharp it nearly severed its own credibility. Jimmy Kimmel – a man whose greatest crime is wielding the dad joke like a weapon – had been briefly cancelled after ABC caved to White House pressure. But the backlash was swift, furious, and merciless, prompting Disney to reinstate him like a teacher forced to apologise to the class clown.
Enter El Taco threatening to sue ABC for an eye-watering sum, because nothing says “defender of free speech” quite like attempting to bankrupt a broadcaster for daring to broadcast. One can almost picture him shaking his tiny fists at Mickey Mouse while bellowing, “Sue them all!” – like a toddler denied biscuits at bedtime.
Disney’s U-turn reveals less a defence of expression and more a pattern of cowardice: folding under presidential tantrums, then folding again under public fury, leaving its reputation creased beyond repair. Meanwhile, Kimmel returned to the airwaves triumphant, wielding satire like a Martian laser drill – precise, relentless, and entirely unthreatened by mortal egos.
In short, Earthlings, this episode demonstrates two immutable truths: one man’s ego can topple corporate policy, and nothing in your world makes as much sense as a president suing for being mocked. Martians can only sit back, popcorn in hand, marveling at the cosmic absurdity.
Free speech with Pentagon permission slips
Meanwhile, in a plot twist George Orwell would have cut for being too obvious, journalists in your United States are now required to pledge that they will only publish material pre-approved by the Pentagon. Free speech, it seems, now comes with an asterisk, a permission slip, and possibly a background check.
Think about it: your Fourth Estate has been transformed into stenographers for the Department of Defence. What was once a press corps is now more of a press corpse. “Democracy dies in darkness,” they once said; apparently, it also dies in Pentagon red tape.
To outsiders (i.e. everyone not entangled in your nationalist fever dream), this looks like the end of journalism as you’ve known it. Instead of holding power accountable, your journalists must now ask: “Excuse me, sir, may I please tell the truth?” It’s like hiring a watchdog, then gagging it and asking burglars to write the security report.
You Earthlings like to boast about your constitutional freedoms. Yet here you are, applauding “free press” while clipping its wings. To us Martians, this looks like a tragic magic trick: watch as democracy saws itself in half and pretends to survive. So, bravo, Earthlings. You’ve reinvented journalism as performance art. What a shame the performance is titled “Democracy: The Final Season.”
Trump unchained at the UN
This week at the United Nations, the 80th General Assembly was treated less like diplomacy and more like open-mic night, courtesy of President Tangerine. What was supposed to be a sober showcase of international cooperation became 58 minutes of free-form grievance jazz – a stream-of-consciousness tirade covering enemies, fake wars, imaginary achievements, and personal grudges.
He opened with complaints about a “bad escalator and bad teleprompter” – later revealed to have been triggered by his own team – as if interplanetary diplomacy should come with customer service for tantrums. Then came full-throttle denialism: climate change? A “hoax” cooked up by “stupid people.” Renewable energy? A “joke” that weakens nations. Floods, droughts, extreme heat? Clearly figments of overactive imaginations, despite diplomats quietly melting into their suits.
The Mango Monarch also swung his attention to the UK taking a swipe at Sadiq Khan, the Mayor of London, whom he accused of running a “disaster city.” and claimed was trying to bring in Sharia Law. Not satisfied with this particular line of rambling he also revisited property developer grudges, lectured the world on America’s unmatched greatness, and even threw in digs at late-night comedians – because of course he did. At one point, he declared America “the hottest country in the world,” leaving scientists unsure whether he meant climate change, dating apps, or his own temperature after too many cheeseburgers.
Delegates sat stiff-backed, Martian translators muttered that even Google couldn’t parse the logic, and meme makers gleefully spliced the tirade into TikTok soundtracks. By the end, interpreters looked ready to resign, diplomats were exchanging notes reading “is he still going?” and the UN podium itself seemed to wilt under the sheer weight of nonsense.
What was meant to be a global address turned into a Trumpian open-mic night: rambling, bitter, and embarrassingly parochial.
Elbows up, Canada
North of the border, the U.S. Ambassador to Canada made a remarkable statement: that the “Elbows Up” protest movement is anti-American. Anti-American? Nonsense. The movement exists precisely because of America’s Mango overlord, who has spent months threatening to annex Canada as though it were prime real estate ripe for a golf course.
For context: Elbows Up is a Canadian response to Trump’s threats. Citizens are showing solidarity by raising an elbow – a cheeky but peaceful gesture of defiance and by boycotting American products. And yet, the ambassador painted it as treachery. Curious, isn’t it, how when Americans wave guns in public it’s ‘freedom,’ but when Canadians raise an elbow it’s sedition?
As a Martian, let me be clear: we fully endorse the Elbows Up movement. Every single Canadian raising an elbow is doing so with Martian backing. If you want to resist megalomania, elbows are an excellent start. Trump caused this protest by threatening their sovereignty; blaming Canadians for resisting is like blaming the floor for tripping you when you walked into a wall.
So, Canada, keep those elbows high. You’ve got all of Mars behind you.
In things MAGA made up this week: Tylenol edition
And now for the health segment, or what passes for it under this administration. President Mangochops has declared war on the only painkiller pregnant women can use safely: Tylenol. Yes, you read that correctly. Apparently, expectant mothers must now suffer through nine months without relief of pain or fever, because Mango-in-chief decided paracetamol causes autism.
Of course, there is zero scientific evidence to prove his claim. But when has that ever stopped him? This is the man who once blamed windmills for cancer and recommended injecting bleach. It’s so perfectly on brand that one wonders if parody writers are even needed anymore. If this is leadership, then Martian midwives could do a better job with two spoons and a jug of aloe vera.
The kicker? He’s taking health advice from a man who once claimed to have had a brain worm and spent a decade mainlining heroin. On Mars, that would disqualify you from even running a sandwich stall, let alone dictating medical policy but on Planet Chaos this is apparently the new gold standard in health expertise.
If your president is taking medical cues from recovering addicts with pet parasites, might I suggest rethinking your approach to science? Pregnant women deserve better than superstition wrapped in orange bluster. But on Planet Earth, common sense is optional, and nonsense is mandatory.
Trump the peacemaker (in his head)
Speaking of wars, El Taco has once again floated his Nobel Peace Prize ambitions. His latest claim? That he prevented a war between Armenia and Cambodia.
For the geographically challenged, Armenia is in the Caucasus; Cambodia is in Southeast Asia. They are 4,150 miles apart, separated by multiple countries, languages, and cuisines. There has never been a war between them, because there’s no conceivable reason for one. Yet here was Trump, patting himself on the back for ending a conflict that existed only in his imagination.
What next? Will he boast of brokering peace between Atlantis and El Dorado? Will he claim to have negotiated a truce between Hogwarts and Narnia? Or will he take credit for ending the Cold War by microwaving a burrito? It’s not diplomacy. It’s fan fiction. And yet, his supporters cheer as though he’d single-handedly held back World War Three with nothing but a Big Mac wrapper and his sparkling wit.
Curtain call
So ends another dazzling performance on the stage of Earth’s follies: Disney pirouetting, journalists reduced to scribes with permission slips, UN speeches stretching longer than a Martian winter, Canadians raising elbows, pregnant women robbed of painkillers, and wars invented purely for applause.
If this is what passes for governance, perhaps you should try anarchy for a change. Until next week – may your escalators keep moving, your elbows stay aloft, your presidents keep clear of the pharmaceutical aisle, and your journalists remember how to tell the truth.
