When Chaos Reigns Supreme
When Epstein still haunts the headlines, the satellites explode, and town halls turn into war zones—maybe, just maybe, the problem isn’t partisanship. It’s cowardice.
Guest article by Michael Cohen. Get more articles directly from Michael by following him on Substack here.
Let’s start with the obvious: Jeffrey Epstein. Because somehow, years after he “died” in a jail cell under the dimmest lightbulb in American criminal justice history, the saga refuses to die. And you know what? Good. Because it’s not just a salacious true crime story, it’s a mirror. A grotesque, cracked mirror reflecting who gets protection, who gets power, and who gets away with damn near everything.
And no, this isn’t just a partisan obsession. It’s bipartisan. Both parties, every aisle-crosser, every campaign bundler, every late-night visitor to Epstein’s New York townhouse of horrors—everyone wants that story to stay buried. Because somewhere in that vault of horrors is a truth too radioactive for Washington to survive. Which is why tonight, President Trump—the man who once told me to “handle it”—was set to have his top officials huddle behind closed doors at J.D. Vance’s residence. Bondi’s there. So is Todd Blanche, Kash Patel, and Susie Wiles. A little bedtime story time? No. It’s a war council. Strategy, we would call it. (Editor’s note: Since the meeting was exposed by the press, the Trump administration declared the reports to be “pure fiction” — as they always do when damaging stories emerge.)
Well, here’s a strategy: release the goddamn files.
Stop treating transparency like it’s kryptonite. The American people can handle it; we’re already drowning in chaos. What we can’t handle is the feeling that everyone in power is protecting each other at our expense.
Now, speaking of chaos, let’s talk about the one that barely made a ripple in the press: NASA is considering blowing up a weather satellite. Why? Because it failed? Nope. Because it was too accurate. That satellite helped predict—or at least better understand—the historic flooding in Texas. But instead of accountability, the administration is choosing plausible deniability. You see, you can’t be blamed for the weather if you’ve destroyed the forecast.
You can’t make this shit up. I mean, if George Orwell and Truman Capote had a baby, it’d be this White House.
Now let’s move to tariffs. Or as I like to call them, taxes. My three-word campaign slogan—remember it, chant it, tattoo it: “Tariffs Are Taxes.” And who pays? Consumers. Always. You, me, everyone who shops at a grocery store or tries to buy a car or pays rent. But according to the GOP brain trust, these tariffs are gonna pay off our national debt. Trillions of dollars, they say. Maybe to the tune of 37 trillion. And from where? From foreign countries. Let that sink in. We’re going to trick other countries into paying off our own spending addiction by overcharging our own people at the register. What genius! Why didn’t I think of this?
Even the Republican base knows it’s a scam. You should hear the town halls—when they even have them. The brave few GOP members still facing their constituents are getting screamed at like substitute teachers the day before summer break. These voters aren’t stupid; they’re broke, angry, and finally figuring out who’s picking their pockets.
And while we’re at it, have we already forgotten that the U.S. military is still patrolling the streets of Los Angeles? Not the border. Not a war zone. Los Angeles. Marines called in to control the humanitarian crisis caused by the administration’s immigration crackdown. But here’s the real kicker: when a DOGE employee gets assaulted and carjacked in D.C., the President orders his administration to look into the federalization of the district. Because apparently, this is the only place that a crime is taking place—despite reductions in crime statistics across the country.
Meanwhile, the so-called “Big Beautiful Bill”—the administration’s sweeping budget reform—is finally delivering its promised pain. Over 11 million Americans are about to lose access to Medicaid, SNAP, and basic social services. You know, the lifelines that keep food on tables and insulin in fridges. But don’t worry! Chuck Schumer and Cory Booker are on the Senate floor giving their 25th impassioned lectures of the month on “solutions” that never come. They’ve turned performative politics into an Olympic sport. All talk. No flame.
So here’s a wild idea: maybe the Democrats should take a page out of Gov. Gretchen Whitmer’s playbook. You know what she’s doing this week? Meeting with Trump. Not because she likes him. Not because she agrees with him. But because she wants something for her state. Real bipartisanship isn’t hand-holding and singing "Kumbaya"; it’s taking the meeting, getting the funding, securing the win. It’s compromise with your nose plugged if it means helping your people.
It’s called governing, and right now, it’s about as rare as a Republican admitting climate change is real.
Because while Democrats give speeches and Republicans gerrymander Texas to carve out five new congressional seats, the country burns. The electorate’s drowning in floods, inflation, food insecurity, disinformation, and a thousand other failures. And our leaders? They're too busy preening for the camera or plotting their next attack line on X and Threads.
So let me say it as clearly as I can: Stop talking. Start acting. Fight fire with fire. Gerrymander back. Play dirty. Go bold. Because the other side already is. And if Democrats don’t like that, if they think it’s “beneath them,” then they’re not serious about saving democracy. They’re just another part of the chaos.
And chaos, my Substack family, doesn’t take prisoners. It devours cowards.
NOW DO ME THIS FAVOR: JOIN ME IN THE FIGHT.
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We are not passive observers of the downfall.
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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.
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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!







I think it's time for a radical idea and a new movement; the "Listen to the Women" movement. It should carry far beyond Epstein and become a mantra for most every situation because face it; it doesn't happen nearly enough, "Listen to the Women". We need a logo and tee-shirts and a media outlet . (Raygun in Des Moines IA is excellent with logos and has a quick turn around. Love that place.)
Republicans are unable to defeat democrats without cheating!