Greetings, Earthlings. It is I, Xylb’tok, your increasingly concerned Martian correspondent, reporting once more from the dusty calm of Olympus Mons. The Lunar Haggis have been attempting to gold-plate a wheelbarrow and some tools for surface work, after hearing it improves leadership credentials on Earth. Grzz’lax has confiscated the gold paint, the wheelbarrow and three suspiciously ornate name plaques. It has not helped.
Down on your planet, Week 68 felt less like governance and more like a civilisation collectively asking, “What if we removed the adults from the room entirely?”
There were fascist gatherings. Counterterrorism appointments that raised profound questions about the meaning of words. A Secretary of Defence apparently determined to turn promotion boards into a history lesson nobody asked for. And, somehow, an ongoing campaign to cover public monuments in gold leaf.
Let us begin.
America 250: From concert to campaign rally
You may recall Trump’s Freedom 250 extravaganza (I use that term very loosely). The grand celebration of America’s 250th anniversary. The event that was supposed to feature musicians, entertainers and a patriotic showcase of national culture. Although from up here it more resembles a state fair run by alcoholic buffoons.
There is just one problem.
The performers keep leaving.
As I reported last week several artists reportedly distanced themselves from the event, while others expressed surprise at discovering they had apparently been booked without their knowledge. This is generally considered a flaw in event planning. Most organisers start with confirming attendance.
Undeterred, Agent Orange has reportedly floated an alternative.
A MAGA rally.
Of course he has. I mean how typically on brand of his royal orangeness. Nothing quite says I love my country like making the anniversary of your country all about you.
At this point, every road appears to lead back to a campaign rally. It is less a political movement and more a lifestyle brand with occasional elections attached. The remarkable thing is how quickly a national celebration transformed into something resembling a birthday party where the invited guests declined to attend.
The Lunar Haggis once organised a festival featuring bagpipes, meteor surfing and competitive toast throwing. Despite it proving to be rather popular, they did not immediately convert it into a political movement. Funny how things work out really.
Portugal and the gathering of the extremely concerning
We now turn to Portugal, where a summit brought together a collection of neo-fascist figures from around the world.
Among those reportedly attending was former US Border Patrol commander Greg Bovino. You may recall that Bovino defended the officer who murdered Alex Pretti and made statements that were contradicted by actual video evidence, leading to him being removed from office.
Now, Earthlings, context matters.
Shortly before attending, Bovino posted an image featuring a salute that many observers felt bore an unfortunate resemblance to a gesture that became rather popular in Germany during the 1930s.
You know the one.
The salute that history has spent the better part of 80 years explaining was a catastrophically bad idea.
The gathering itself attracted relatively little mainstream attention considering the calibre of some attendees and the ideologies represented.
From Mars, this struck us as odd.
When individuals associated with far-right extremism gather internationally, that feels like something worth discussing. The lesson of history is not that these movements disappear when ignored. Quite the opposite.
Grzz’lax reviewed the photographs and described them as “alarmingly familiar”. That is not a phrase one wishes to hear from a being who has studied twelve thousand years of civilisational collapse.
Pete Hogsbreath and the promotion purge
Meanwhile, at the Pentagon, Pete Hogsbreath appears determined to remain one of Earth’s most reliable sources of controversy. This week it emerged that he removed all female and several Black naval officers from a promotion list. Official explanations focused on merit and standards. Curiously, the officers removed appeared disproportionately likely to belong to groups that Hogsbreath and his allies spend an awful lot of time complaining about. What an extraordinary coincidence.
Earthlings, diversity is not a threat to competence. The notion that military effectiveness depends upon excluding talented people because of who they are remains one of your species’ more baffling recurring errors. Every generation rediscovers this mistake. Every generation pays for it.
The Lunar Haggis once excluded left-legged competitors from a relay race on the grounds that it would improve performance. It did not. They lost spectacularly.
Gold fever reaches critical levels
We have previously discussed Agent Orange’s fascination with gold. We assumed there must surely be a limit. There was not. We are starting to wonder whether he is in fact Gollum, but I digress.
This week reports emerged that approximately $5mn is being spent covering bronze horse statues near the Lincoln Memorial in 23.75-carat gold leaf.
Not 23-carat. Not 24-carat. 23.75.
A level of specificity suggesting someone spent a considerable amount of time determining exactly how gilded something needed to be before it crossed into parody.
The funding is reportedly coming from money that otherwise might have been available for National Parks.
Earthlings, your national parks contain forests, wildlife, ecosystems and historic landscapes. Bronze horses already contain bronze horses. One suspects Abraham Lincoln himself might have had questions.
The whole affair increasingly resembles an archaeological mystery in progress. Future historians will uncover layers of gold coating and conclude that America was briefly ruled by a dragon. The evidence would support this theory.
Counterterrorism, but make it January 6
Just when we thought staffing decisions could not become more surreal, the Pentagon reportedly hired a convicted January 6 rioter for a sensitive counterterrorism role.
Yes. A convicted participant in an attack on democratic institutions has apparently been placed in a position connected to preventing threats against democratic institutions.
There are moments when satire simply sits quietly in a corner because reality has already done the job.
Imagine appointing an arsonist as Fire Safety Officer. Imagine hiring a burglar as Head of Home Security. Imagine asking the Lunar Haggis to supervise a whisky distillery.
Some ideas explain their own flaws.
The administration argues that individuals deserve second chances. A fair principle. Yet many observers have noted that there appears to be a difference between rehabilitation and handing someone the keys to the control room. The distinction feels important.
The White House octagon
Remember the UFC cage erected on the White House lawn? The one that looks like somebody confused the presidency with pay-per-view entertainment? I mean how could one forget, it’s not like you can miss it after all. There it stands in all its twisted metallic glory looking like an oversized toddler’s playpen (rather apt really).
Well.
Trump is reportedly considering keeping it permanently. Permanently.
Earthlings, the White House lawn has hosted state visits, historic speeches and diplomatic ceremonies. Its purpose is not generally to accommodate cage fights.
We are rapidly approaching a situation where future schoolchildren may genuinely believe constitutional government evolved directly from mixed martial arts.
One suspects the Founding Fathers had slightly different plans. Although admittedly, after reading some of their letters, not by as much as one might hope.
The Lunar Haggis are now demanding their own cage. Grzz’lax has denied the request on public safety grounds.
The Kennedy Centre and the art of the sulk
Agent Orange’s long-running quest to place his name on absolutely everything encountered a slight obstacle this week when a judge ordered that his name be removed from the Kennedy Centre.
Now, Earthlings, most people respond to losing a court case with disappointment, perhaps even an appeal. Not so the Gilded Grievance Machine.
Instead, Trump reportedly declared that he has no interest in the Kennedy Centre anyway.
This is a fascinating negotiating strategy that we on Mars refer to as Retroactive Indifference.
It works like this:
You desperately want a thing.
You fail to get the thing.
You immediately announce that the thing was rubbish and you never wanted it in the first place.
The Lunar Haggis employ this tactic frequently after competitive events.
“I didn’t want to win the race.”
“I wasn’t trying to catch the cheese.”
“That trophy is ugly anyway.”
The resemblance is uncanny.
What makes the episode particularly amusing is that Trump’s interest in the Kennedy Centre has been anything but subtle. There have been repeated attempts to reshape it, influence it and attach himself to it. To suddenly claim complete disinterest immediately after a legal setback has all the credibility of a cat insisting it never wanted the fish it spent 20 minutes staring at.
The Kennedy Centre, meanwhile, continues the rather radical tradition of being named after President Kennedy rather than whichever politician most recently wandered through the building.
A controversial position, apparently.
The Penguin reviewed the situation and suggested that if every building Trump wanted named after himself actually received a new name, future maps would consist entirely of variously sized labels reading “Trump Something”.
Grzz’ax has therefore proposed a compromise.
One small shed.
At the far end of Mars.
Named after him.
Provided he pays for it himself.
The letter B crisis
And now we arrive at perhaps the most bewildering moment of the week.
Trump embarked upon another one of his free-range verbal adventures and informed listeners that most people do not know that “dumb” ends with a B, doubling down on a previous statement he had made.
Yes. That was apparently presented as a noteworthy insight.
Earthlings, I must confess something.
On Mars, our educational standards may differ. Yet even our youngest Haggis can generally identify the final letter of a four-letter word.
The statement triggered widespread confusion, partly because spelling “dumb” correctly is not usually considered evidence of exceptional intellectual achievement.
It is more of a baseline expectation.
Still, Agent Orange appeared rather pleased with the discovery.
Which perhaps tells us more than intended.
The Penguin watched the clip twice before quietly asking whether Earth had recently suffered a shortage of dictionaries.
Closing reflections from orbit
Week 68 has been characterised by a recurring theme.
The replacement of substance with spectacle.
National celebrations become personal rallies.
Public monuments become gold-plated vanity projects.
Historic institutions become entertainment venues.
And all the while, increasingly serious political movements gather in the background, attracting less attention than whichever shiny object happens to dominate the headlines. That, Earthlings, may be the most concerning development of all.
History rarely arrives wearing a sign that says “history is happening”. More often it arrives disguised as distraction.
Up here on Mars, the Lunar Haggis have resumed their attempt to gild absolutely everything. Grzz’lax has now imposed strict regulations limiting decorative gold use to ceremonial teaspoons and one commemorative kettle.
Order, of a sort, has been restored. Until next week, Earthlings. Try not to mistake spectacle for leadership, gold leaf for greatness, or a permanent UFC cage for constitutional progress.
And if someone proudly informs you that “dumb” ends with a B, perhaps they should never have been nominated for a Nobel Prize.
