Trump’s America Is My Birthday Nightmare
On my birthday I wish for peace and quiet. Instead, America delivered Epstein tapes, armed troops, collapsing democracy, economic chaos, and Trump’s vengeance on full display.
Guest article by Michael Cohen. Follow him on Substack for more by clicking here.
Today is my birthday. And while I should probably be taking the day off, indulging in the little luxuries—like a quiet morning, a hot coffee, and a slice of our family friend Kathy’s life-altering carrot cake—I can’t. I made a wish, the kind you’re supposed to keep to yourself. But rules, like reputations, are broken every day in Trump’s America. So here it is: I wished for one single day of peace and quiet. No drama. No chaos. Just stillness.
And yet, here we are.
The chaos machine never stops churning. It doesn’t pause for birthdays, holidays, or funerals. Today’s edition of “What fresh hell has the Trump administration unleashed?” begins, once again, with the Epstein crime saga. The latest gift none of us asked for is the release of an audio interview with Ghislaine Maxwell, the woman who enabled Jeffrey Epstein’s predation. I listened so you don’t have to. Let me spare you: it’s equal parts denial, revisionist history, and gaslighting. Maxwell speaks as though she’s the misunderstood victim, not a partner-in-crime. The same playbook I’ve seen before: deny, deflect, deceive. The fact that this is even resurfacing now is no accident. These stories are released like smoke bombs, meant to distract us from the darker games happening in plain sight.
And speaking of dark games, let’s talk about Washington. The National Guard has been federalized and deployed in D.C., now carrying weapons. Think about that for a second. Our capital city, patrolled by armed military under the orders of a president who has threatened—no, promised—to “cleanse” American cities he deems crime-ridden. Chicago. New York City. Philadelphia. Baltimore. He doesn’t see communities. He doesn’t see families. He sees enemies. He sees “infestations.” He sees opportunities to flex his authoritarian muscles. History teaches us that when leaders militarize public life, it’s not safety they’re after; it’s control.
Meanwhile, Russia is making its position clear: the war in Ukraine isn’t ending anytime soon. Whatever warm handshakes and hollow promises came out of Trump’s most recent meeting with Putin were just theater. Russia has no intention of backing down. And Trump? He’ll spin it as strength, as proof of his own “deal-making,” while Ukraine continues to bleed.
But the chaos doesn’t stop overseas. Domestically, we’re watching Trump and his loyalists launch a full-court press on redistricting. Their goal is simple and sinister: silence the votes of minority communities and lock in power for decades. Gerrymandering isn’t new, but under this administration, it’s weaponized with surgical precision. The message is loud and clear: democracy only works if it works for them.
Then there’s the tariff policy—or maybe I should say, the tariff disaster. Companies around the world are so confused by the U.S. rules, they don’t know where to send money, how to collect fees, or who’s even in charge. The result? They’ve decided to stop shipping to us altogether. Trade, one of the beating hearts of our economy, is being strangled by incompetence and ego. And the ripple effects are real: empty shelves, soaring costs, shrinking markets. Economists are warning that the American labor force is collapsing at rates that echo economic catastrophe. Sixty-two percent of retired Americans don’t know how long their nest eggs will last. Many fear they’ll live longer than their savings, a slow-motion financial nightmare.
Now, last night on MSNBC, I said it straight: the FBI raid on John Bolton’s home and office is only the beginning. Trump’s enemies list is long, and he intends to check off every name. Indictments will come. Prosecutions will come. And if history is any guide, imprisonment will follow. Retribution isn’t a campaign slogan for him; it’s a mission—and one he intends to win.
And because America has officially gone through the looking glass, people are even fighting over the logo of Cracker Barrel. Yes, you read that right. With wars raging, economies collapsing, and democracy teetering, we’re arguing about a damn restaurant sign.
So no, my birthday wish didn’t come true. There was no peace achieved, no quiet, no stillness. Just the familiar drumbeat of chaos that has defined our lives under this administration. But here’s the truth: the wish was never really the point. What matters is the fight we choose every single day.
I’ll keep writing every morning. I’ll keep doing my Substack LIVES. I’ll keep growing this community. I’ll keep standing up for what I believe is right. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past 8 years, it’s that silence is complicity. And I won’t be complicit. Not now, not ever.
So thank you for being here, for walking this path with me, even when the road feels endless. Because it’s not ending any day soon. Not until we decide, together, to make it end.
TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!
I AM ASKING EACH ONE OF YOU TO BRING ONE FRIEND TO OUR COMMUNITY.
PLEASE HAVE THEM SUBSCRIBE. SHARE. RESTACK.
Yeah, I know—you’re tired. This shit is exhausting.
Guess what? Me too.
But I’ve spent the last 8 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!







Happy Birthday, Michael! Thank you for all you have done, and continue to do
Michael, if you’re reading this you’re much too close. Go and have a great time, if possible on your birthday.