The GOP: Gone, Over, and Pondering
Ladies and Gentlemen, partisans and independents, pundits and podcasters, and those who still get political insight from Facebook comment threads:
We are gathered here today not in mourning but in bemused contemplation, to eulogize an institution once hailed as the Grand Old Party—now reduced to a group chat filled with infighting boomers, AI-generated campaign ads, and one libertarian who won’t stop quoting Hayek at the worst possible time.
Yes, the Republican Party is gone. Over. And still—somehow—pondering what went wrong.
Let us begin not with tears but with polite chuckles and a gentle roast, for what was once a mighty political machine has now stalled in a parking lot of its own making. A party that once gave us Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, Ike Eisenhower, and even the Bushes (for better or worse) now gives us… congressional hearings on TikTok, open fealty to tech billionaires, and the ceremonial lighting of the “Hunter Biden Laptop Candle” at every CPAC. It is a great thing that stupidity isn’t contagious and only a pity that physically it doesn’t hurt.
The Party of Lincoln (Briefly)
Let’s take a moment to remember, however fleetingly, that the Republican Party once claimed Abraham Lincoln as its founding father. Yes, that Abraham Lincoln—the top-hatted emancipator, the poetic orator, the president who united a shattered nation with dignity and moral clarity.
Today, invoking Lincoln at a GOP rally is like quoting Shakespeare at a Monster Truck event: technically allowed, but met with confused silence and an urge to chant “USA!” louder to drown out the discomfort.
The party of Lincoln, who once said “government of the people, by the people, for the people,” gradually evolved into the party of “government for the donor class, by the PACs, for the algorithm.” Somewhere between the Gettysburg Address and the 2026 Iowa State Fair Debate (sponsored by MyPillow and a protein powder made from deer antlers), the script got lost.
Lincoln preserved the Union. The modern GOP threatened to dissolve it every time a Starbucks cup didn’t feature a snowflake.
From Rail-Splitter to Grifter-Whisperer
Lincoln came from humble roots—born in a log cabin, self-taught, stoic, brilliant. The GOP of 2026 brags about Harvard-educated politicians who pretend to have grown up in bait shops and pose in campaign ads with shotguns they’ve never actually fired.
Instead of embracing Lincoln’s legacy of integrity and principle, the modern Republican Party treated it like an inconvenient family secret—like a vegan cousin at a barbecue. A polite nod was given when absolutely necessary, but mostly, he was left out of the group texts.
Attempts to rebrand the party as “The New Lincoln Republicans” lasted exactly six weeks before Marjorie Taylor Greene tweeted that Lincoln was a “globalist plant” who invented the income tax to fund lizard people.
Lincoln Was Too Woke
To the modern GOP, Lincoln would probably be labeled a RINO (Republican In Name Only). After all, he:
- Believed in using federal power to do good
- Suspended habeas corpus (GOP would now scream “tyranny!”)
- And worst of all, he freed enslaved Black people
Can you imagine Lincoln at a 2026 CPAC conference? The moment he suggested national unity, a woman in a “Feminism Is Cancer” shirt would storm the stage to accuse him of being a DEI consultant.
Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation would have been dismissed by Fox Nation as “cancel culture gone too far.”
GOP Lincoln vs. Actual Lincoln
GOP Lincoln would say: “All men are created equal—unless they’re from California.”
Actually, Lincoln said: “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
GOP Lincoln would amend: “A house divided against itself is probably part of a liberal housing initiative.”
In truth, the GOP kept Lincoln’s name while ditching everything else—like a kid who inherits a famous last name but flunks out of every civics class. The modern party used Lincoln’s legacy as a moral prop, like a sepia-toned Halloween costume pulled out for just one night a year: President’s Day.
“We Are the Party of Lincoln!”
They say this every four years, without irony. It’s practically the Republican version of “We’re not racist, we have one Black friend.” But invoking Lincoln in 2026 felt like Blockbuster reminding people it once beat Netflix—historically true, presently tragic.
Sure, Lincoln freed the slaves. But what has the party done lately? Voted against child tax credits? Proposed arming teachers? Investigated drag brunches?
The closest the party ever got to honoring Lincoln in spirit was when a Republican candidate in Oklahoma staged a “Secede From Woke” parade on Presidents’ Day—only to be trampled by his own horse. There was some symbolism in that.
The Final Irony
The GOP claimed Lincoln, revered Lincoln, engraved his face into their fundraising emails. But their policies, rhetoric, and conspiracy-tinted goggles would have made the man spin so hard in his grave, he could power half of D.C.
Lincoln once warned against the dangers of mob rule and the decay of civic virtue. The modern GOP’s greatest policy contribution was ensuring that AR-15s were more protected than elections.
So yes, the GOP was the Party of Lincoln… briefly. And then they wandered off, muttering about “freedom,” refusing to wear a mask during a pandemic, and calling the EPA a Marxist institution.
May Lincoln’s ghost one day haunt them with the full force of the Gettysburg Address—and a really passive-aggressive lecture.
Grandpa’s Facebook Party
The GOP in its final years became the political embodiment of your great-uncle’s Facebook feed. Every meeting felt like a town hall at Cracker Barrel. Discussions weren’t about policy—they were about “the real America,” where gas is 89 cents, Tucker Carlson is on Mount Rushmore, and cities are just crime zones with gluten.
Every Republican platform became a kind of reverse Mad Libs:
- “We’re pro-[noun] and anti-[vague scary thing]!”
- “We’re for freedom, unless that freedom involves books, drag queens, or anything critical.”
Even CPAC was rebranded as a mix of a doomsday prepper expo and a testosterone supplement infomercial. Panel topics included:
- “Wokeism: The Real Terror Threat?”
- “Can Jesus Vote?”
- “How to Stand Your Ground at a PTA Meeting”
Evolution? Bitch Please…This Is the GOP
While Democrats evolved (painfully and sometimes incoherently), the GOP built a bunker. It rejected progress like it was a vaccine mandate. It saw changing demographics and responded with voter ID laws. It saw climate change and said, “Well, maybe God wants us sweaty.”
And when it finally tried to adapt—it didn’t evolve. It downloaded updates from Elon Musk’s X account and hired YouTube influencers who thought “policy” was short for “police tea.” At one point, the GOP’s biggest 2025 campaign donor was an NFT project based on Reagan quotes.
The Elephant in the Room: Trump Never Really Left
Of course, no obituary would be complete without the man who rebranded the party from Grand Old to Grievance On Parade: Donald J. Trump.
The word “evolution” has always been tricky for the Republican Party. Not just in science class—though let’s be honest, even mentioning Charles Darwin at a GOP convention is grounds for immediate excommunication and possibly being hit with a pocket Constitution—but also in its overall political arc. Because while the world moved forward, the GOP chose to stand still… and then run backward in steel-toed boots, screaming about “tradition” and “their God-given right to not learn new things.”
You see, for most political parties, evolution is a necessary and often painful process. You adapt. You reconsider policies. You appeal to new voters. The Republican Party’s version of evolution was more like a dog chasing its tail in a barbed wire fence while yelling about CRT.
Progress? But That’s Socialist!
As the country became younger, more diverse, more digital, and—God forbid—more accepting, the GOP responded with all the nimbleness of a 1997 dial-up modem being force-fed a fax machine.
- Americans supported legalized marijuana? GOP response: “The Founding Fathers smoked hemp, but not like that.”
- Americans wanted student loan relief? GOP response: “Kids need to learn character through lifelong debt.”
- Do Americans like clean energy? GOP response: “Wind turbines cause cancer and make cows gay.”
Rather than evolve on climate, health care, education, or technology, the GOP doubled down on opposing all of it. Because when you’re standing on a platform made of 1950s nostalgia and fossil fuel fumes, compromise smells like treason.
The Anti-Platform Platform
By the time 2026 rolled around, the Republican Party platform looked like it had been written on a cocktail napkin at a Golden Corral by a man yelling into his Bluetooth headset. Here’s what passed for a party platform:
- Ban Woke (undefined)
- God (undefined)
- Borders (build more of them, maybe underwater)
- Fentanyl (bad)
- Hunter Biden (still being investigated, eternally)
- Bathrooms (they’re always under threat)
- Something Something Socialism (always included, even if unrelated)
Every election cycle, the GOP took its platform to the party base like a restaurant takes a new menu to a focus group of raccoons. If it got shredded, they just served up red meat anyway. No nutrition, just dopamine and indigestion.
Culture Wars: Because Ideas Are Hard
Let’s be real: policy is difficult. It involves math, trade-offs, negotiation, and understanding more than two bullet points at a time. But fighting the Culture War? Easy. Just find an outrage, slap it on a cable news chyron, and fundraise on it until it collapses under its own stupidity. So that’s what the GOP did.
- Books? Too woke. Ban them.
- Disney? Too gay. Boycott them.
- Mr. Potato Head? Too confusing. Investigate him.
- Trans kids? Too… different. Legislate their humanity away.
The party that once sold itself on small government evolved into the party of “government so large it monitors your uterus, your curriculum, your TikTok usage, and your gas stove.” Small government is dead. Long live the Surveillance Daddy State.
The Base Got Older, The Ideas Got Staler
The average age of a GOP primary voter in 2026 was somewhere between “still listens to Rush Limbaugh reruns on cassette” and “refuses to trust microwaves.” The party became less of a political organization and more of an AARP subgroup that occasionally held rallies featuring Kid Rock and accidentally racist lawn signs.
Meanwhile, America kept changing. And instead of adapting, the GOP whined, legislated regressively, and eventually built an entire platform on yelling “Let’s Go Brandon!” while forgetting who Brandon even was.
This refusal to grow wasn’t just ideological—it was mathematical suicide. Gen Z wasn’t just voting; they were running for office. And while the GOP tried to appeal to them by awkwardly quoting Jordan Peterson and offering “anti-woke” crypto grants, the message flopped harder than a Truth Social IPO.
A Party of Zombies, Not Visionaries
By 2026, the GOP was no longer offering a vision for the future. It offered resentment for the present and delusion about the past. Its platform was nostalgia cosplay, its candidates Twitter edgelords, and its think tanks staffed by people who thought Ayn Rand was too soft.
The future demanded leadership on AI, climate, global conflict, and economic transformation. The GOP offered Marjorie Taylor Greene in a trucker hat explaining why she believed solar panels were powered by Chinese communism.
In a political environment that needed astronauts, the GOP sent in coal miners with conspiracy theories.
Political Darwinism: You Adapt or You Die
In the end, the Republican Party didn’t die because of Democrats. It didn’t die because of Biden, the Squad, George Soros, or Antifa. It died because it refused to grow. It was a dinosaur that saw the comet of modernity and screamed, “This is fake news!” before being vaporized by its own irrelevance.
Evolution didn’t kill the GOP…stagnation and religious zealotry did.
Policy? Nah. Just Vibes
The GOP’s last real policy proposal was sometime in 2017, and even that involved cutting taxes and letting the deficit grow like a chia pet. After that, it was all vibes. Guns? Yes. Gays? Maybe. Immigrants? Build a wall. Again. Even if there’s already one. Build another. Bigger. More symbolic.
By 2026, the Republican Party platform was essentially a bullet-point list of things that made Tucker Carlson frown.
But Wait, Are They Really Dead?
Ah, the question political journalists still ask in their weekly Substacks: Is the GOP truly dead?
Well, they’re certainly no longer living. Not in the vibrant, policy-driven, Goldwater-to-Reagan sense. What’s left is a decaying shell, animated by reactionary memes and billionaires who treat democracy like an off-brand video game.
The GOP, my friends, is not a phoenix. It will not rise from the ashes. It will linger, zombie-like, appearing in midterms and school board meetings, occasionally making news when someone from Alabama says something so outrageous that even Fox News winces.
But dead? Oh yes. And today, we say goodbye with mockery, fondness, and a dash of dark humor. Because satire, as always, is the sincerest form of political autopsy.
The Rise and Fall: From Lincoln to Trump
The story of the Republican Party is a lot like a Greek tragedy, if the protagonist started out as Abraham Lincoln and ended up as a guy who spray-tanned his face, rage-tweeted at toilets, and thought the Constitution had “a lot of good people on both sides.”
From Lincoln to Trump—what a fall. From “a house divided against itself cannot stand” to “stop the steal.” From the Gettysburg Address to “covfefe.” This is not a political arc. This is a long, slow-motion pratfall off the moral high ground.
The Foundation: Lincoln, Liberty, and Literacy
It began nobly. Lincoln led a nation through civil war. He preserved the Union, ended slavery, and eloquently reminded Americans that democracy was sacred. The Republican Party stood for the rule of law, national unity, and, believe it or not, facts.
Fast forward to 2026 and the modern GOP is busy accusing Muppets of indoctrination, using “elite” as a slur against anyone who can pronounce “infrastructure,” and rewriting American history one censored curriculum at a time. Lincoln founded the party on principles. Trump transformed it into a vibe.
The War Years: Eisenhower, Not Insurrections
In the 1950s, the Republican Party had men like Dwight D. Eisenhower—war hero, consensus-builder, highway-builder. He warned America about the military-industrial complex. Today, the GOP is the industrial complex, minus the literacy. Their modern rallying cries include:
- “Dr. Seuss was canceled!”
- “Let’s invade Mexico!”
- “Windmills cause cancer!”
While Ike worked to prevent global war, modern Republicans demanded more defense spending to fight their true enemies: NPR, solar panels, and drag brunch.
Reagan: The Patron Saint of Tax Cuts and Moral Panics
Ah yes, Saint Ronald. To many Republicans, Reagan became less of a former president and more of a spiritual entity—like the patron saint of deregulation, tax cuts, and selective memory. Under his watch, the party cemented its alliance with the Moral Majority, laid the groundwork for culture war politics, and perfected the art of smiling while dismantling the social safety net.
By the time 2026 rolled around, GOP candidates still quoted Reagan like he was Scripture:
- “Government isn’t the solution; it’s the problem.”
- “Trust but verify.”
- “Nancy told me not to say this, but the trees are spying on us.”
But where Reagan delivered folksy charm and coherent sentences, the Trump-era GOP brought you 3-hour YouTube rants filmed in truck cabs with phones taped to a MAGA hat.
The Bush Years: Compassionate Conservatism Meets Mission Accomplished
In the early 2000s, Republicans promised “compassionate conservatism,” a term so oxymoronic it now sounds like a rejected slogan from a Hallmark card written by Dick Cheney.
Under George W. Bush, Republicans launched wars in the Middle East, expanded surveillance powers, and ran deficits the size of Texas—all while claiming to be the fiscally responsible adults in the room. Somehow, they still managed to win elections by pointing at Democrats and shouting “Tax Hikes!” like it was an exorcism spell.
And then came 2008—the moment the party faced a choice: adapt or double down.
Spoiler: they doubled down. On everything. Especially the rage.
Enter the Era of Outrage
With the election of Barack Obama, the Republican Party lost its collective mind. The Tea Party was born—not so much a movement as a caffeinated scream. America’s first Black president triggered a deep identity crisis, and rather than confront it, the GOP swan-dived into white grievance, birther conspiracies, and a newfound passion for posting.
What followed was a decade-long descent into political cosplay, where every congressman pretended to be a Founding Father, every policy disagreement was a war crime, and every liberal was part of a Marxist sleeper cell operating out of a Whole Foods.
By the time Trump rode down that golden escalator in 2015 and declared Mexicans “rapists,” the GOP was ready. Not for leadership. Not for ideas. But for “Owning the Libs”.
The Trumpification of Everything
Trump wasn’t a fluke. He was the logical endpoint of decades of dog whistles, outrage politics, and “government is the enemy” rhetoric. He simply removed the subtext and replaced it with capital letters and exclamation marks.
Trump gave Republicans permission to:
- Lie brazenly
- Weaponized victimhood
- Treat policy as optional
- Call anyone with a library card a communist
He didn’t drain the swamp—he restocked it with golf buddies, bootlickers, and people who thought OANN was too liberal.
And the base? They loved it.
To millions, Trump was Moses, Churchill, and Elvis rolled into one—if Moses had filed for bankruptcy six times, Churchill had tweeted at windmills, and Elvis had sold NFTs of his own mugshot.
The Final Collapse: A Movement Without a Mind
Under Trump, the GOP became a party without ideology, coherence, or shame. Every belief could be overturned if Trump said so. Free trade? Gone. Deficit hawks? Extinct. NATO? Suspicious. Putin? Actually, a pretty smart guy.
By 2026, Trump had either directly endorsed or personally insulted every Republican candidate running for national office. The litmus test wasn’t loyalty to the country, but loyalty to Trump’s latest opinion about the 2020 election, or his feud with Taylor Swift.
And those who dared dissent—like Liz Cheney or Mitt Romney—were cast out like sinners from the cult, forced to wander the wilderness of MSNBC bookings and Lincoln Project Zoom calls.
In the End, a Party Salted the Earth
The Republican Party’s fall wasn’t a sudden collapse—it was a long, public, self-inflicted meltdown. What started with Lincoln ended with Trump hoarding classified documents in a ballroom next to a fake Civil War saber and a Diet Coke button.
It was Shakespearean, if Shakespeare had written with emojis:
“Et tu, Lindsey?”
“Yea, verily, we did storm the Capitol, but only in love of country.”
And now? The GOP stands like a fallen statue of itself: cracked, corroded, but still screaming about CRT and gas prices as it sinks into political irrelevance.
The Musk Era: When Silicon Valley Met Capitol Hill
Elon Musk’s rise from tech visionary to political force marks a defining aspect of the so-called Musk Era. His political evolution has been shaped not just by influence, but by increasing engagement with policymaking and government reform at the highest levels.
From Outsider to Insider
In the early 2010s, Musk was largely seen as a private-sector innovator. He engaged with Washington primarily through lobbying for renewable energy subsidies and space contracts. That changed dramatically in the late 2010s and early 2020s, as his companies—Tesla, SpaceX, Neuralink, and Starlink—became critical to U.S. infrastructure, defense, and communications.
Trump Era Engagement
Initially critical of Donald Trump, Musk’s relationship with the GOP shifted over time. After withdrawing from Trump’s Strategic and Policy Forum in 2017, Musk reemerged in Republican circles by 2023, aligning more with conservative causes like free speech (through his Twitter/X platform), deregulation, and skepticism of the federal bureaucracy.
In 2024, during Trump’s re-election campaign, Musk openly supported him—an unprecedented political alignment for a major tech CEO. After Trump won the presidency, Musk was appointed to lead the newly created Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—a nod to both bureaucratic reform and Musk’s internet-savvy branding.
As the Head of DOGE
As DOGE Secretary, Musk was tasked with radically downsizing the federal workforce and applying “Silicon Valley-style disruption” to government operations. Key initiatives included:
- Slashing federal agencies Musk viewed as redundant
- Pushing for AI and automation within public services
- Outsourcing parts of the federal IT infrastructure to private contractors—often from the tech sector
While some praised these efforts as bold and necessary, critics pointed to widespread layoffs, logistical chaos, and ideological favoritism. Many saw DOGE as less a reform project and more an experiment in libertarian technocracy.
Legacy of Ascendancy
Though Musk’s political tenure may be short-lived—especially after reported fallout with Trump and the 2025 GOP establishment—his ascent symbolizes a broader trend: the tech elite moving from lobbying the government to running it. Musk didn’t just influence policy; for a time, he was shaping it from within.
Factional Follies: MAGA vs. Musk—The Ultimate Showdown
As the Musk-Trump partnership reached its peak in 2024, cracks quickly emerged beneath the surface. What began as a powerful alliance between Silicon Valley’s richest disruptor and America First’s political juggernaut devolved into a high-stakes ideological clash. The battle lines? Efficiency vs. loyalty, tech libertarianism vs. nationalist populism.
Act I: The Bromance
When Elon Musk threw his weight behind Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign, MAGA leaders rejoiced. Musk brought billions in influence, a media megaphone via X (formerly Twitter), and credibility with young, tech-savvy libertarians. In return, Trump handed Musk real power—appointing him head of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), tasking him with gutting the “Deep State.”
“It’s time to make the government as lean and innovative as a Tesla factory.” —Elon Musk, Jan. 2025
Act II: Collision Course
The partnership soured almost immediately. Key fault lines emerged:
- Musk’s Radical Cuts: His aggressive moves to slash federal departments drew backlash even from MAGA-aligned bureaucrats, veterans, and populists who relied on federal aid.
- Techno-Libertarian Vision vs. Populist Nationalism: While MAGA demanded loyalty tests and culture war crusades, Musk pushed deregulation, AI governance, and efficiency metrics that ignored ideological orthodoxy.
- Starlink Diplomacy: Musk’s freelance foreign policy—via Starlink access in conflict zones—clashed with MAGA’s America-first stance, leading to internal disputes in Trump’s cabinet.
- Media Mayhem: X became a double-edged sword. Musk used it to criticize MAGA hardliners, while Trump allies used Truth Social to question Musk’s loyalty.
Act III: The Fallout
By mid-2025, tensions reached a boiling point:
- Reports leaked that Trump had grown frustrated with Musk’s independence, calling him “a CEO who thinks he’s president.”
- DOGE imploded under internal chaos, whistleblowers, and resignations—many accusing Musk of turning it into a tech-bro fiefdom.
- MAGA influencers publicly turned on Musk, labeling him “Deep Tech” and accusing him of undermining the populist movement.
“We hired a disruptor but got a dictator.” —Anonymous senior MAGA advisor, May 2025
The Verdict: No Winners, Just Wreckage
The MAGA-Musk showdown underscored deeper tensions on the American right: Populist Traditionalism vs. Technocratic Futurism. Musk, for all his ambition, underestimated the tribal loyalty and narrative control at MAGA’s core. Trump, meanwhile, misjudged Musk’s resistance to ideological conformity.
In the end, both emerged bruised:
- Trump’s administration faced embarrassing dysfunction.
- Musk’s political ambitions suffered a credibility hit, with even his allies in Silicon Valley distancing themselves.
The 2026 Midterms: A Red Wave of…Confusion?!
The 2026 U.S. midterm elections is widely expected to cement Republican dominance after Trump’s dramatic return to the White House in 2024. But instead of a unified “Red Wave,” voters witnessed a chaotic swirl of factional infighting, unpredictable upsets, and mixed messages. The result? A GOP victory on paper—but a political mess in practice.
GOP in Disarray
Heading into the election, Republicans controlled the House, the Senate, and the White House. Yet behind the scenes, the party was fracturing along ideological lines:
- MAGA Hardliners: Loyal to Trump’s America First agenda, focused on border security, anti-DEI laws, and retribution against perceived enemies of the state.
- Muskian Technocrats: Backers of Elon Musk’s deregulation-first, AI-driven, innovation-over-tradition approach.
- Old-Guard Conservatives: Fiscal hawks and institutionalists alarmed by the chaos in both the White House and DOGE.
- Libertarian Wildcards: Rand Paul–style senators who caucused right but opposed surveillance, military overreach, and Musk’s growing power.
This disunity led to primary battles, contradictory messaging, and strange endorsements—including candidates backed by both Trump and Musk who publicly disagreed on policy.
The Midterm Map: Red, But Muddled
Republicans might hold onto control of both chambers—but not with the margin or message they’d hoped:
- Senate: GOP may gain only 1 seat, despite favorable maps. Musk-aligned candidates underperformed in swing states like Colorado and Pennsylvania.
- House: Hold the majority but lost several suburban seats to moderate Democrats and independent technocrats.
- Governor’s Races: A mix of Trumpian loyalists and Musk-endorsed futurists split the ticket in states like Arizona and Nevada—resulting in razor-thin wins and recount demands.
“We won the map, but we lost the narrative.” —Insert GOP strategist’s name here, Election Night 2026
Chaos in the Aftermath
Post-election, the Republican civil war will only intensify:
- Trump will accuse Musk-aligned PACs of sabotaging “true patriots.”
- Musk may call for a new party, teasing the idea of a “Forward Federation” of post-partisan innovation candidates.
- Conservative media split: Truth Social will go scorched earth on Musk, while X influencers mocked MAGA candidates as “stuck in the past.”
Meanwhile, Democrats, though not winning outright, began to unify behind a “pro-stability” message—capitalizing on Republican chaos.
The Bigger Picture
The 2026 midterms revealed that the Republican Party’s biggest threat wasn’t Democrats—it was itself. Voters were left bewildered by a party that couldn’t decide whether it was running on 1950s nostalgia, 2050s futurism, or just vibes.In the end the GOP may win more seats because of gerrymandering and voter ID laws meant to disenfranchise minority and colored people. They will lose more trust by voters and open the door for independents, third-party movements, and a renewed Democratic strategy.
Here’s my mock breakdown of the 2026 U.S. midterm election results, state by state, reflecting the complex and fragmented political landscape:
Senate Elections
Republican Holds: West Virginia, Ohio, and Montana
Democratic Holds: Michigan, Maine, and New Hampshire
Competitive Races: North Carolina, Iowa, and Georgia
Gubernatorial Elections
Republican Victories:
Florida: Whoever the GOP candidate is, they will win. Why? Because Florida loves being punished. Besides South Florida and some parts of Miami being Blue, the rest of Florida is deep red and will never change. Not any time soon at least.Texas: Hold my beer, Florida! Whoever the Republican candidate is, they will secure another term, maintaining the GOP’s hold. Why? Because Texas is God’s Country. Again, religion pollutes critical thinking and common sense.
Democratic Victories:
California: As one of the Bluest States in the Union, I cannot envision California electing a Republican any time in the near future.New York: Despite strong GOP challenges, incumbent Governor, Kathy Hochul, will retain the Governorship. She is a strong woman and they hate that she can’t be manipulated and guilted into doing what they want.
House of Representatives
The GOP may maintain control though with a drastically reduced majority compared to previous sessions. Why? Because of these key reasons:
1) Heavy gerrymandering
2) Changes in state Voter ID laws. Voters in 36 States need proper identification, meaning 21 million Americans don’t have any government issued photo IDs. Financial barriers, lack of access to transportation, and limited information can make it difficult for older people, people of color and low income people to obtain any form of ID.
3) Closing of precincts based on redrawn maps disenfranchising minority voters who predominantly vote Democratic
4) Voter intimidation and spreading fear through threats of violence
5) Misinformation which the GOP and operative are great at
6) Political apathy where voters of all types stay away from the polls saying “This is only the midterms and not a presidential election year.” This happens every midterm election cycle that tends to help Republican candidates win. A record 44% of the electorate register as Independent. They tend to be less politically engaged.
7) The weather plays a role, believe it or not. The typical super GOP voter will make it to vote whether rain, hail or sunshine. Democratic voters? Not so much. They take things for granted depending on what polls may say.
8) Former and current prisoners convicted of felonies are another group who are often disenfranchised during elections, Especially if they are African-American. Maine and Vermont are the only states that do not prohibit those convicted of felonies from voting, even when they are in prison.
9) Age, gender, level of education, socio-economic status and race can, and often will, impact whether a person votes.
10) Election Day is held on a Tuesday. It doesn’t necessarily fall on a federal holiday. This presents a dilemma for many workers who don’t get paid time off and who have to wait in long lines before getting their chance to vote. Early voting and mail-in voting gives citizens more flexibility. However, not all states offer these options.
11) Citizens are less likely to vote if they think their ballot doesn’t matter. As many as 15% of registered voters reported that they didn’t vote in the 2016 presidential elections because they didn’t believe their vote would make a difference. This is according to the Census Bureau data. A different Pew Research Center survey found that half of the participants didn’t bother even researching the election because they didn’t think their vote impacted the government, even though voting is one of the few ways for citizens to push forward policies they support.It is a great sign that Democratic candidates are winning in even red districts in special elections throughout 2025. However, voters tend to have a short memory span that gives the GOP the perfect opportunity to lie, cheat and steal to win elections. That’s what they are great at. Not creating and implementing beneficial policies that actually help their constituents. Not putting America first. They definitely do not look out for the Middle Class nor Working Class poor in America. Republicans tend to cater to their Corporate Masters who donate tons of money to their re-election every election cycle. It’s a case of one hand washes the other and to hell with the regular voter. Depending on the State, people are caught up on party loyalty, and are a part of the MAGA cult, even though they get screwed every time by Donald Trump and the Republican Party. The list is too long to write out but the red states know who they are. They vote against their best economic interests and want to “stick it to the libs.” They are consumed by winning cultural wars that do not benefit them in any way. Can social issues keep a roof over their head or put food on their table? Nope! But, voters in these red states never learn and repeat voting for politicians who despise them on a personal level.
I surely hope that the American electorate proves me wrong in the 2026 midterm elections? But I highly doubt that they will. The willful ignorance and sheer natural stupidity is too rampant and deeply ingrained in some, not all, their psych. Religion plays a detrimental role in how some people vote as well. Take a wait and see approach hoping that people remember the detrimental policies of Trump and the GOP. At least Democrats outline their plan of action only for it to be damaged by the Fascist MAGA cult. Democrats need to be disciplined in their message and make it cohesive and understandable to the average American.
The Rise of the Gen Z Conservatives: “Less Burnout, More Titty Babies”
In a political era shaped by polarization, chaos, and collapse fatigue, a new kind of conservative is emerging from the ruins of both Trumpism and technocracy. They’re younger, funnier, paradoxically both more jaded and more idealistic—and they’re rebranding the Right with a cocktail of nostalgia, nihilism, and deeply online irony. Welcome to the age of the Gen Z Conservative—or as they half-mockingly call themselves: “Titty Babies for Liberty.”
The Meme That Became a Movement
The slogan “Less Burnout, More Titty Babies” started as a Twitter/X meme. It mocked the hyper-masculine, grindset-infused brand of conservatism peddled by influencers like Andrew Tate and Jordan Peterson acolytes. But it quickly morphed into a broader commentary:
- “Less Burnout” = rejection of hustle culture, online warfare, and ideological obsession
- “Titty Babies” = a playful embrace of softness, emotional vulnerability, even maternal archetypes—without abandoning right-leaning politics
Rather than storming Capitol Hill or simping for CEOs, these young conservatives prefer group chats, ironic podcasts, thrifted shitty Reagan gear, and quiet revolts against what they see as both left-wing moralism and right-wing rage addiction.
Post-Trump, Post-Musk, Post-Ideology
Gen Z conservatives came of age watching:
- Trump burn out a generation of Boomers in red hats
- Elon Musk promise libertarian salvation and deliver bureaucracy and backlash
- Progressives’ moral-police each other into submission
- Institutions rot from inside out
They’re not buying any of it.
Instead, they’re driven by:
- Hyper-localism (school boards over senates)
- Digital community-building
- Aesthetic traditionalism (but ironically)
- Humor-as-shield, and often, as a weapon (Often crass and corny. Humor that takes all the air out of a room basically)
They still believe in borders, strong families, and free speech—but they’ll pair that with catboys, vintage anime gifs, and Gregorian chant playlists. They are a contradiction reminding the average person of Log Cabin (LGBTQ+) Republicans who really are not wanted, and very resented, in the modern day Republican Party.
Contradictions Welcome
This new Gen Z right isn’t afraid of contradictions:
- Catholic memes, but OnlyFans side hustles
- Monarchist aesthetics, but anarchist tendencies
- Anti-woke, but anti-war
- Traditional family values, but queer friends and group therapy
Rather than fleeing these tensions, they lean into them—often using humor, performance, and shitposting as ideological armor. Their message: “We’re not here to save America. We’re here to outlive it.”
Politics Without Panic
Unlike their MAGA predecessors, Gen Z conservatives aren’t obsessed with electoral wins or culture war dominance. They see politics as an absurd performance—something to be meme’d, mocked, and occasionally nudged. Their version of activism might look like:
- Creating online homesteading zines
- Trolling both MSNBC and Turning Point USA
- Voting for chaos candidates… or not at all
- Buying chickens and learning how to sew
They’re not disengaged—they’re disillusioned. And in that disillusionment, they’ve created a new identity: less burnout, more belonging.
The Terrible Joke is the Point
“Less Burnout, More Titty Babies” isn’t just a slogan. It’s a quiet revolution. A rejection of moral crusades and productivity cults. A decision to survive late-stage politics with community, irony, and maybe a little tenderness. It’s a Gen Z rebellion wrapped in a meme—soft, absurd, and somehow more serious than anything that came before it.Good luck with all those things Gen Z Conservatives! You will never be accepted within the GOP…ever!
The Final Curtain: A Republican Party in Perpetual Reboot
This is an evocative closing title. It suggests themes of cyclical decline, reinvention, and perhaps an inability to escape the past. But, here goes my analogyPolitical Allegory
Theme: A political party (real or fictional) that keeps collapsing and rebranding without ever truly reforming.
- Core Idea: Each reboot is hollower than the last—new faces but the same old ideologies.
- Structure: You could chart the party’s history like a tragic play in acts—Act I: Rise, Act II: Fall, Act III: Reinvention, looping endlessly.
- Tone: Sardonic, reflective, or elegiac.
Example Line:
“The slogans changed, the colors shifted, but the puppeteers behind the curtain never did.”Theatrical Metaphor
Theme: Life, fame, or identity as a never-ending performance where the final act is always postponed.
- Setting: A surreal theater where the curtain never truly falls.
- Characters: Actors trapped in eternal roles; a director obsessed with perfection; an audience long since gone.
- Philosophical Bent: Can there be an ending if no one acknowledges it?
Possible Hook:
“They called it the final curtain, but every night it rose again to the same applause recorded years ago.”Psychological/Existential Take
Theme: An individual or society caught in a loop of reinvention without growth.
- Focus: The emotional toll of starting over repeatedly.
- Mood: Melancholic, introspective.
- Influences: Camus, Beckett, or even Kafka.
Sample Concept:
“We reinvented ourselves so many times we forgot what the original looked like—or if it ever existed at all.”Sci-Fi/Dystopian Interpretation
Theme: A civilization or AI that resets itself after each collapse, never learning from the past.
- Imagery: Broken systems auto-repairing, memory logs erased, rebellions rewritten as bugs.
- Conflict: Someone who remembers every reboot and wants to end the cycle.
- Title’s Role: The “Final Curtain” becomes a mythic goal—an actual ending in a world that doesn’t believe in endings.
And so, we gather here, not to mourn the Republican Party, but to finally acknowledge what it became: a monument to its own undoing. Born in the crucible of Lincoln’s moral clarity, rebranded under Reagan’s camera-ready optimism, and then slowly devoured from the inside out by a toxic feedback loop of Newt Gingrich’s scorched-earth tactics, Karl Rove’s cynical calculations, and the Breitbartization of everything. What was once a party of ideas became a party of vibes—angry, conspiratorial, unhinged vibes.
It survived wars, depressions, and even Dick Cheney’s undisclosed locations, only to be felled by a golden elevator ride in 2015 and the cult of personality that followed. Trump wasn’t the disease, merely the final, bloated symptom—enabled by McConnell’s dead-eyed pragmatism, Lindsey Graham’s spine liquefaction, and a base trained to see reality as optional. By 2026, the party had become a tragicomic husk: a Marjorie Taylor Greene tweet thread in human form, clutching a Bible it hadn’t read and a constitution it misquoted.
Today we bury it—not in Arlington, but somewhere between an expired Newsmax subscription and a defunct Truth Social server farm. Let the tombstone read: “Here lies the GOP—1860 to [insert latest reboot]. Killed by hubris, hollowed by grift, embalmed in irony.” And though it will no doubt rise again under a new name (perhaps “Freedom Valor Eagle Coalition PAC”), let us remember this version for what it was: a cautionary tale dressed as a movement, screaming about freedom while quietly handcuffing the future.
Its final act wasn’t a bang or a whimper, but a garbled livestream of someone shouting about gas stoves and M&M’s masculinity while democracy quietly slipped out the back door. It died as it lived: blaming the mirror for its own grotesque reflection, mistaking volume for vision, and treating truth like a hostile witness.
Let the record show: this was no assassination, but a long, slow, wildly monetized suicide—one grift at a time. And though we bury it today, we do so with shovels in one hand and fire extinguishers in the other, because if history has taught us anything, it’s that no bad idea ever truly dies in America—it just forms a Super PAC and files to run again.
And so, we lower the elephant-shaped casket into the soil of American memory—not too deep, of course, lest it claw its way back up with a rebranded hat and a new grievance. Let us remember the GOP not for what it became, but for what it claimed to be: the party of Lincoln, then Reagan, then…well, let’s skip a few chapters. Like a phoenix stuck in a Groundhog Day loop, it died many times, only to return more confused, more outraged, and somehow more certain. But now, at last, we say goodbye. Until the next reboot, rebrand, or righteous resurrection—rest in perpetual polling, dear party. You were grand. You were old. And now, finally, you’re both.
Rest in chaos, dear party. Your legacy is secure—in the same way a sinkhole is secure: vast, empty, and still growing.
Be safe, stay healthy and I’ll see you in the next column.UNTIL NEXT TIME AMERICA!!!