The Spotless Cleansing Of America - Trump, Elon Musk, And Throwing Out The Trash

After Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy, both hardline butchers heading the new Department of Government Efficiency, DOGE, get through, there won't be much left of the bureaucratic behemoth that has sat its lumbering, fat shanks on American affairs for generations. Just like their hero, Javier Milei of Argentina who stood before a poster board to which all the departments of government were affixed, pulled them down one by one, shouting at each, Afuera! No Hay Plata!' - Out! There's No Money - Musk and Ramaswamy will be no different.  The unnecessary, redundant, bloated caricatures of good governance will be summarily and unceremoniously ditched, tossed aside without a second thought,  left on the curb.

The Left is in shocked disarray.  How could they? How could they dismantle the very cornerstones of a caring, supportive government, the only bastions of defense against predatory capitalism, the ravages of the far Right, and the insatiable appetites of the white elites?

They can and will.  Not only will they shuck entire departments, but they will eviscerate others which are nothing but warrens of inefficiency, deliberately tangled with redundant parts in anticipation of triage and elimination.  Bureaucracies are amoeba-like moving organisms - squeeze one part and it oozes into another, always alive, surviving, and as hopelessly needless as before.  Musk and Ramaswamy understand this self-serving nature of bureaucracy and will slice and sever until it is a functionless dead thing. 

The raison d'etre of DOGE is not simply the eradication of useless bureaucratic organs but to block the barrage of legislative fiats that have been designed to transform American culture from a unified, nation-minded one envisaged by Jefferson and turn it into one without an ethos, rallying cry, or principled center.  

The country has been divided by race, gender, ethnicity, and identity, broken apart by false assumptions of diversity and inclusivity, and weakened by centripetal faux utopian forces; and DOGE will, with the support of the three branches of government now in Republican hands, begin the process of re-centering. 

The Left has already begun howling at the moon, wild-haired, crazed preachers warning of the coming of the End of Days, Armageddon, and the Last Judgment.  'Woe be unto you whose soul is at risk, you in the maw of the beast.  Repent!' but of course the frenzied, hysterical Left has always been the last to see what's what in the hinterland, and to realize that America has had enough of their badgering, black this, black that; flouncy, deepthroated transgender kindergarten readers, the erasure of history, and the culture of reverse bigotry.  

Nobody wants what the Left is selling, MSNBC is almost off the air, CNN is desperate to return to hard news before their media empire collapses, and the boardroom of the New York Times is shuddering as the paper sheds readers thanks to their unremitting promotion of political magical realism.  The tide has turn, but the vaudevillian hacks on the air are still claiming 'the victory of ideas', vowing to be at the barricades to obstruct the Republican juggernaut.  No one except a few tailgate hangers-on are interested.  The country has matured, evolved, and has finally found its voice.  DOGE is but the first visible step to the reversal of wokism and the defeatist progressive culture. 

Bob Muzelle, a social justice warrior since the days of Freedom Rides, Selma, and the march across the Pettis bridge, was distraught.  Years, decades of honest labor to reform the country and move it inexorably towards the bright, verdant, peaceful future he and his progressive colleagues had always imagined, were suddenly in jeopardy.  Bob was aware enough to know that this was not just a simple changing of the guard, a turn to the Right, but a sea change - a radical uprooting of all holy and sacred and replacing it with a laissez-faire robbery of civil rights and compassionate government. 

He and his colleagues, usually in lockstep, marching boldly forward, were at sixes and sevens, in disarray, and unsure of next steps. 'We must act, and act now', said Bob, but the quizzical, upsetting blankness on the faces of the assembly was a scary sign.  Years of lambasting Trump as the spawn of the devil, an insurrectionist racist and homophobe, a carny barker for circus politics have ended in naught.  The man is back in office; but that incontrovertible fact still didn't wake up the somnolent, still hopelessly hopeful Bob and shake some sense into him.  Nothing should change, he hammered on, nothing, for to do so would be to capitulate our hard-earned victories for the poor, the other-gendered, and the racially diverse. 

He had reason to be concerned, for Trump was serious about his frontal attack against preposterousness. Minorities should indeed shake in their boots as the scythe cut clean and low.  They would be no longer have privileged status and would have to pull their own weight to compete with the majority.  Equal opportunity was the new ethos, key to the rising fortunes of everyone.  Once one forgot race, gender, and ethnicity and focused on individualism, upward mobility and social equality through economic parity, the country would be back on track. 

 

Objectivity is the byword of DOGE - does it work, is it necessary, what is the return on investment, and could it be done privately? Risk analysis will replace assumption.  Economic productivity, wealth creation, geopolitical security, and national interest must be factored in to environmental policy. Long term performance evaluation must accompany any educational program. 

Bob was up in arms at this so-called objectivity which he saw as nothing but window dressing to cover up racist bigotry and the continued oppression of the poor; but again, the train had left the station and Americans were outraged as they watched their tax dollars pissed away on cockamamie giveaway schemes.  No Mas! they shouted, and DOGE listened while Bob turned a deaf ear. He like Alexander Hamilton never trusted the unwashed, and it was always the elite progressive cadres who were the caretakers of America's well-being. 

'Let's boycott the Inauguration', Bob suggested, but even if they did nobody would notice.  He and his progressive claques were already history, footnotes at best, examples of febrile utopianism and political hegemony.

'Think about that condo in Florida', said Bob's wife, tired of so many years of bloody seriousness and petulant lack of humor.  'You've given your all'; but Bob simply couldn't admit that decades of rancid hotels, crowded busses, and financial arrears had been worthless.  Yet what could he think, faced as he was with the total dismissal of all the had fought for?

'Good riddance', was heard more often than not on K Street for the likes of Bob Muzelle.  Washington was glad to be rid of this pompous, humorless lot. 

The plans for the Inauguration extravaganza were almost complete, and Bob sickened as he watched the glitzy blonde women, the fanfare, the pure Las Vegas tinsel of it all come to town; and for the first time, he actually considered a condo in Sarasota and long days in a chaise lounge on the beach.