**BONUS ARTICLE** If This Is Making America Great Again… Can We Go Back to Shitty? Please!
By The Unredacted Bastard — Truth Wrangler | Profanity Technician | Outraged American
Pull up a goddamn chair. And maybe grab a helmet or a stiff drink.
I’ve been chewing on a question that refuses to leave me alone, like a telemarketer from Hell who somehow got your personal number and won’t stop calling during dinner:
If what Trump is doing is “making America great again,” can we please, for the love of all things holy and unholy, go back to shitty?
Because if this flaming septic tank of national chaos is “great,” then I want the old bad. The humble bad. The cozy, off-brand, store-brand shitty. The shit we actually knew how to handle without breaking into a national group scream.
Let’s go through what “great” has become — because apparently we need to document the descent before historians start carving this disaster into stone tablets as a goddamn warning.
The Definition of “Great” Has Been Kidnapped, Beaten, and Left in a Ditch
Trump says we’re great the same way a shady landlord tells you the apartment “has character.”
Translation: Something is severely fucking wrong, and you’re about to find out the hard way.
His “greatness” is basically a smoke machine: lots of fog, zero substance, and if you breathe too much of it, you get dizzy and start believing QAnon horseshit about lizard people running Costco.
💣 Truth Bomb: If a guy who decorates like a billionaire toddler on bath salts insists something is “the best,” assume it’s structurally unsafe and probably sticky.
This is a man who could burn toast and then scream at the toaster for conspiring against him. And he’s trying to toast an entire country with that same half-functioning brain.
The Economy: Now With 40% More Bullshit
He inherited a stable economy and immediately treated it like a hotel minibar: consumed everything, blamed housekeeping, and then insisted everyone applaud him for “managing resources,” the delusional bastard.
He lies about economic numbers the way frat boys lie about how much they can bench — loudly, confidently, and with absolutely no realism.
Wages? Flat as a dead possum.
Costs? Up like his blood pressure when someone hands him a fact-check.
Confidence? Lower than the approval rating of a colonoscopy.
But he’ll still march onstage and shout about “the best economy ever” like a guy trying to impress a date with a fake Rolex he bought from a gas station vending machine.
💣 Truth Bomb: Any economy that depends on your ability to ignore math is not an economy — it’s a cult spreadsheet on meth.
Foreign Policy: A Wrecking Ball in Golf Pants
Watching Trump do foreign policy is like watching a goose wander into a minefield wearing tap shoes. Except the goose has nuclear codes and unresolved childhood issues that really should’ve been addressed in therapy decades ago.
He treats NATO like an MLM he didn’t consent to join.
He flirts with dictators like they’re auditioning for The Bachelor: Authoritarian Edition.
He bullies allies, praises autocrats, and mispronounces “Ukraine” like he’s doing it out of spite and brain fog.
💣 Truth Bomb: If your favorite global leaders are war criminals, congratulations — you’re not a patriot. You’re a fucking side character in a dictatorship fanfic.
Democracy: We Used To Have One, Right? I’m Starting to Wonder
He doesn’t just bend norms — he snaps them over his knee like a cheap broomstick from Dollar General.
This man treats democratic institutions the way he treats NDAs: things to violate, deny, and then get angry when anyone objects.
He tried to overturn elections while acting offended that anyone was concerned about the coup cosplay.
He wants to purge civil servants like he’s prepping for a fascist bake-off.
He openly fantasizes about weaponizing the DOJ like it’s his own personal Smite Button for people who didn’t kiss the ring hard enough.
💣 Truth Bomb: If your governing philosophy is “I win or democracy dies,” you’re not a president — you’re a walking, screaming constitutional crisis in a cheap suit.
The Social Fabric: Shredded Like Cheap Toilet Paper
He’s turned anger into a lifestyle brand.
He’s turned cruelty into entertainment.
He’s turned national discourse into the comments section of a viral bar fight.
Everything is a war.
Everything is a grievance.
Everything is a conspiracy ripped from the fever dream of a man who once believed windmills could give you cancer.
💣 Truth Bomb: When half the country thinks books are dangerous but truck rallies are sacred, congratulations — you’re in a clown dystopia fueled by diesel fumes and bullshit.
The Culture: A Dumpster Fire Wrapped in Tinfoil Hats
We’ve normalized stupid.
We’ve mainstreamed delusion.
We’ve weaponized ignorance like it’s a patriotic duty handed down by George Fucking Washington himself.
Anti-science is fashionable.
Anti-fact is common.
Anti-reality is a goddamn organizing principle.
Trump built a world where YouTubers with ring lights qualify as experts and epidemiologists get treated like international criminals who kicked someone’s grandma.
💣 Truth Bomb: When “doing your own research” means watching four TikToks and a dude named PatriotEagle1776, we have officially driven off the intellectual cliff.
The Grift: America’s Newest Growth Industry
The man has monetized victimhood into a multi-million-dollar franchise that would make televangelists blush.
MAGA is QVC for rage addicts.
He pumps out merch like he’s running a sweatshop staffed entirely by his own ego.
He fundraises like the apocalypse is offering matching donations.
It’s endless.
It’s shameless.
It’s weaponized.
And somehow people keep falling for it like lemmings with credit cards.
💣 Truth Bomb: Patriotism shouldn’t involve entering your credit card number even once, let alone weekly.
The Vibes: Terminally Fucked
We don’t wake up to news anymore — we wake up to new catastrophes.
The day often isn’t even six goddamn minutes old and already you’re thinking,
Holy shit, why does it feel like the country is having another panic attack?
The vibe has been “existential dread meets toxic clown energy” for years.
Nobody feels stable.
Nobody feels safe.
Nobody feels like the country is led by someone capable of passing a basic psych evaluation, not administered by his lawyer.
💣 Truth Bomb: Greatness does not feel like chronic national heartburn that even industrial-strength Tums can’t fix.
So Yes — Shitty Is Looking Pretty Damn Attractive
Give me back the era when the biggest scandal was a tan suit.
Give me back when politics was boring enough to nap through.
Give me back the administration where the president didn’t threaten hurricane nukes, Sharpie-map weather patterns, or try to buy fucking Greenland on clearance.
I miss shitty.
I loved shitty.
Shitty was a reliable old friend who didn’t scream at everyone.
But here’s the twist:
We don’t actually have to settle for shitty.
We can go for stable.
Functional.
Informed.
Mature.
Not-run-by-a-raging-crybaby-in-an-always-wrinkled-suit.
We can go for better — we just have to stop pretending this smoldering MAGA dumpster pyre is greatness instead of an arson investigation waiting to happen.
Call to Action
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