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Transcript:
Tonight, President Trump steps up for his first State of the Union of this second term. We should be damn thankful. The Union’s got a pulse again. It’s solvent, strong, standing tall. But it’s easy to blink and forget just how close we came to the abyss.
If America hadn’t hauled itself to the polls and smashed Big Media, Big Government, and Big Tech with a hard no, we’d be stuck watching President Kackala Harris stumble through this speech, giggling like it’s all a sorority drinking game. The State of the Union? It’d be a wreckage—not just her words, but the state of the nation.
Tonight, walk with me into the portal of an alternate reality:
Picture this hellscape. Harris as President, a human vodka bottle with her hand on the nuclear codes, and media seal clappers falling all over themselves to insist she’s just what this country needs at this very moment.
Had you not shown up last November, we’d be sitting down watching the Sergeant at Arms introduce Madame President Kamala Harris—half drunk on vibes, half on something stronger.
Historic, they’d crow: First woman, first Black woman, first Indian woman to coconut-tree her way to the top. Speaker Hakeem Jeffries smirks, loving that she knifed her old boss to get there.
She tosses a wave to Vice President Tim Walz, who’s sweating bullets and botching a clap.
She cackles into the mic. “My fellow Americans, the State of the Union is…” A trainwreck she calls progress.
Border wall? Gone. Gas cars? Four years and they’re toast—pedal your Tesla or walk. Foreign policy? She’s screaming “Slava Ukraini!” And in no way, shape, or form will we ever engage with Russia, she screeches.
To show solidarity, she implores Congress to invest 1 trillion dollars over the next ten years to show solidarity to the Slava Ukraine cause. Their freedom is our freedom—and is why her administration is committed to making sure elections continue to be suspended in Ukraine!
Palestine gets a nod; Israel gets the shaft.
China’s tariffs vanish; and so, go the tariffs with Canada and Mexico. “Fairness,” she calls it. We need to become more generous as a nation. Walz stands up to clap, his glasses nearly falling off.
“Tax the rich!” she screeches—meaning you, suburbia, footing the bill for her utopia.
Inflation fix? Hand out printed money ‘til it’s meaningless. Security? “The real threat’s you,” she says, locking up “misinformation” spreaders—Trump and Musk are in cuffs by week four.
MSNBC swoons, calling her the second coming.
Education’s a freakshow. Kids pick genders; drag queens’ sub for teachers and troops. As she gets to this part of this speech that will thank God never happen, Harris grins wide.
Democrats cheer. Republicans sit stone-faced. Her America’s a morning for cowards, a midnight for the rest.
That’s the alternate reality—where the cowards known as warhawks and genderbenders call the shots. They ignite world wars, too spineless to face the mess at home. They hide behind screens, labeling chaos what they’re too weak to confront. But here? We didn’t bend. We didn’t break. We stood up and won.
Wake up. You’re not in that nightmare—yet. But don’t get lazy. We were inches from it. It’s on us to keep swinging, to shove back against the cowards and their chaos. Let it slip, and that dystopia’s our tomorrow. We can’t afford that. If you voted to stop this, take your salute and God bless the America of tonight. An America under the vision that is America First.