Fog Can’t Hide This

Inside the Oval Office inferno, Trump screams, Hegseth stumbles, and the Caribbean strikes ignite a whirlwind of chaos, stupidity, and scandal the country can’t stop watching.

Guest article by Michael Cohen. Remember to follow him on Substack for more by clicking here. Michael is also racing to 500K followers on YouTube! Subscribe today for free here.

If you stand outside the West Wing today, you can practically feel the walls trembling from the sheer force of President Trump screaming at Pete Hegseth.
And not the normal “everyone is an idiot but me” shriek. I mean the special octave he reserves for when he’s caught — again — doing something illegal, immoral, catastrophic, or all three before lunch.

Because the Caribbean Double Tap fiasco isn’t just “bad press.” It’s not even “oh look, the president ordered something reckless again.” No. This one is a five-alarm, DEFCON-1, all-hands-on-deck political grease fire. And Hegseth, bless his Fox–Green-Beret–cosplayer heart, is now standing before the American people, the press, and every member of Congress watching this unfold in real time trying to sell the world on his newest lie: the fog of war.

Fog of war?

Buddy, this wasn’t Normandy. It wasn’t Fallujah. It wasn’t even the freaking Battle of San Jacinto. It was a speedboat in the Caribbean, and the only “fog” involved was whatever alcohol-induced brain fog led Pete Hegseth to give a verbal order that, according to multiple witnesses, boiled down to: “Kill everybody.”

Now, if you know Trump — and as you are well aware, I do — this is the moment when the screaming starts. Because this scandal has everything he hates:

• Video evidence.

• Audio evidence.

• People in uniform contradicting the political appointees.

• And worst of all: Trump’s name directly tied to the orders.

That’s why he rushed out with the old faithful: “I didn’t know anything. Pete handles that. I wasn’t involved.”

Sure. Sounds eerily familiar to the language Trump used on Air Force One when questioned about the hush money payment. “I wasn’t involved. Ask my lawyer, Michael. He handled it.”

The Pentagon’s own press secretary literally told reporters hours earlier that every strike is “presidentially directed.” Which means the chain of command flows from Trump to Hegseth to the admiral — not the other way around. But suddenly Trump wants us to believe Admiral Mitch Bradley, on his own, decided to vaporize survivors clinging to floating debris?

Right. Because what is a naval officer without a good, career-ending war crime before breakfast?

Hegseth, meanwhile, is doubling down with the confidence of a man who has never read a single page of the law-of-war manual. Because the manual says, in plain English — hell, in kindergarten English — “orders to fire on the shipwrecked are clearly illegal.” Not “somewhat questionable.” Not “requires further legal review.” Clearly illegal.

Yet there’s Pete, sitting next to Trump at the Cabinet meeting, shrugging like he misplaced a stapler:

“You can’t see anything. It’s the fog of war. The vessel exploded. I didn’t stick around.”

Translation: “I panicked, I bailed, and now the bodies are someone else’s problem.”

The problem for Trump is that this lie won’t hold for more than ten minutes. You can’t “fog of war” your way out of a drone recording. Or satellite footage. Or Navy communications logs. Congress knows it. Legal experts know it. Military lawyers are probably drawing straws to figure out who has to brief this mess. And every Republican within sprinting distance of a microphone is already practicing the sacred incantation:

“We haven’t yet reviewed the full context.”

But here’s what’s really burning Trump alive today:

The Double Tap scandal blows up two narratives he relies on like oxygen:

• The myth of total control (“Nobody makes a move without me.”) and

• The myth of total innocence (“I didn’t do anything, never heard of it, wasn’t there, ask someone else.”)

You can’t be the Strongman Commander-in-Chief and the Clueless Bystander-in-Chief at the same time. Pick a lane. But Trump wants both: power without responsibility, the ability to give lethal orders and then deny them the second they cause political blowback.

This time, the blowback is historic: more than 80 people have been killed in over 20 strikes, a growing number of which are suspected to have been unlawful, and at least one strike was caught on video showing survivors in plain sight.

That’s why congressional investigators are circling like sharks who smell incompetence in the water. That’s why Senator Chris Murphy is already hitting the administration with the political equivalent of a sledgehammer. And that’s why Trump is losing his mind that Pete Hegseth — the one guy who was supposed to be loyal, competent, and television-friendly — is now handing him a scandal with body counts attached.

If you close your eyes, you can imagine Trump pacing the Oval like a Roomba that accidentally swallowed a hornet: “Fix it, Pete! Make it go away! Say it was rogue waves, rogue winds, rogue dolphins; I don’t care. Just fix it!”

But this isn’t going away. Because the truth doesn’t fog over. Especially not when the damn military has cameras running from ten different angles.

And now Congress wants Admiral Bradley to brief them behind closed doors. Good luck with that; Bradley can either tell the truth and get fired, or lie and get indicted.

I don’t envy him. But I do know this: When the smoke clears — and it will — fog won’t be the thing hanging over the Trump administration.

It’ll be the wreckage of their own making.

---

HELP ME TO GROW THIS COMMUNITY… I’M COUNTING ON YOU!

PLEASE SUPPORT INDEPENDENT JOURNALISTS…
SUBSCRIBE. READ. LIKE. RESTACK.

Yeah, I know; you’re tired. This shit is exhausting.
Guess what? Me too.

But I’ve spent the last eight years throwing punches in the dark so truth could get a little daylight. And now I’m asking you to step into the ring with me.

Because if you’re still reading this, you already get it:
This isn’t just a newsletter. It’s a rally cry. A war drum. A line in the sand.

We are not passive observers of the downfall. We are the resistance. We call out the liars. We drag corruption by the collar into the sunlight. We say the quiet parts out loud — and we don’t flinch.

But here’s the truth: I can’t do this solo. Not anymore.

The storm is already here. We are standing in it. And it’s wearing stars and stripes like camouflage, preaching “freedom” while it sells fascism at retail.

So let me ask you:
Are. You. In?

Because this is not a scroll-and-forget read. This is a living, breathing, fire-breathing movement; and movements don’t move unless you do.

We need to be louder than spin, tougher than propaganda, and impossible to gaslight.
That takes more than clicks. More than likes.
It takes skin in the game.

So if you believe truth matters — if you’re sick of the bullshit, if you’re ready to stop screaming into the algorithm and start pushing back with purpose — this is your next step.

HERE’S HOW YOU PUT YOUR FOOT ON THE GAS:

• Become a paid subscriber. Fund fearless, unfiltered journalism that hits back.
• Share this with the loudest people you know — the ones who never sit down and shut up.
• Build the community. Amplify the message. Be the damn megaphone.

And yeah: Founding Members? The first 240 of you will get a signed, numbered, limited-edition Substack version of Revenge. That’s not just a collector’s item. That’s receipts. Proof you didn’t sit this one out.

But let’s be clear:
This isn’t about a book.
It’s about backbone.
It’s about calling out the gaslighters and refusing to be played.
It’s about locking arms and saying, “Not. On. Our. Watch.”

You want to make a difference?
Then make it — right now.

Because if we don’t fight for truth, no one will.
But if we fight together?
They can’t drown us out.

Let’s be so loud they wish we were just angry tweets.
Let’s be unshakable.
Unignorable.
Un-fucking-breakable.

Let’s go.