Good Morning! Captain Canuck is Back

Drones, Disinformation, and the Butter Battle Reboot

If the week began with a market faceplant, today offers the mildest of recoveries, like a boxer pretending to be fine after a knockdown while blood pours from their nose. Despite China’s brutal 84% retaliatory tariffs and the EU eyeing U.S. tech and agriculture, Wall Street seems to have convinced itself it can walk it off. Maybe it’s optimism. Maybe it’s denial. Maybe it’s just short-covering and delusion dressed as resilience.

Turns out Trump’s tariffs aren’t just torching global trade, they’re also lighting up billionaire bank accounts. Since he took office, Elon Musk has lost a staggering $135 billion, mostly thanks to his DOGE-fueled meltdown and Tesla’s stock going into a death spiral. Zuckerberg’s down $27 billion, and Bezos? Another $23.5 billion lighter. That’s nearly $186 billion in collective ego deflation, or as we like to call it: the one part of Trump’s economic plan that’s actually redistributive.

And while the markets flutter between panic and Prozac, the Biden-free White House is out here actively trying to recreate Dr. Seuss’s Butter Battle Book, except instead of Zooks and Yooks, it's MAGA suits and global economies getting toasted over who can drop the bigger tariff hammer. We’re just one melted stick of butter away from Trump calling for airstrikes over breakfast preferences.

Speaking of airstrikes, Trump’s latest idea to win hearts and minds involves unilateral drone strikes on cartel targets inside Mexico. Yes, really. This brilliant bit of militarized diplomacy has gone over exactly as you’d expect. Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum was crystal clear:

“We coordinate, we collaborate, but we are not subordinate.”
Translation: “Touch our soil and we’ll treat your drone like a clay pigeon.”

Sheinbaum, who’s already extradited cartel leaders and smashed fentanyl supply chains, has been praised at home and abroad for doing more than most U.S. politicians to tackle organized crime. But Trump wants war optics, not nuance, he’s designated six cartels as foreign terrorist organizations and may be teeing up the first U.S. military strike on Mexico in over a century. What could possibly go wrong?

Meanwhile, the Trump-Musk alliance continues its quest to criminalize dissent and rewrite reality. Elon Musk is now threatening prison time for anyone allegedly financing protests against Tesla, reposting claims from Asra Nomani, a former WSJ reporter turned full-time agitator. Nomani has compiled a hit list of 24 progressive groups, including Indivisible and ActBlue, claiming they’re behind Tesla vandalism. There's no evidence these orgs have done anything beyond organize legal protests, but in true DOGE fashion, that’s beside the point.
It’s the performance of accusation that matters, especially when your empire’s burning and the easiest way to save face is to punch down.

This tactic, blurring peaceful protest with sabotage, is right out of the authoritarian handbook. Tag critics as criminals, flood the zone with disinfo, and then call for state retribution. It’s not just about narrative control, it’s about prepping the public for repression.

And to make sure the repression is properly messaged, enter Trump’s favorite propaganda millennial, Karoline Leavitt, a simpering yet oddly aggressive mouthpiece whose 1950s newscaster-meets-sociopath delivery was seemingly designed to soothe the fearful while smirking at the collapse of democratic norms. She’s the kind of spokesperson who could announce the abolition of the First Amendment with a smile and a helpful infographic. Keep your eye on her, her job isn’t to inform; it’s to anesthetize.

That repression may come in more subtle forms, too. Consider what’s happening in House Speaker Mike Johnson’s own backyard in northwestern Louisiana. His district is one of the poorest and most Medicaid-dependent in the nation, with nearly 40% of residents on the program. But that hasn’t stopped Johnson from spearheading a plan to slash $880 billion from the fund cuts that could shutter hospitals, gut rural clinics, and leave working people like Chloe Stovall, who earns $200 a week, completely uninsured.

Asked about Medicaid, Johnson shrugged off concerns with this gem:

“It’s not for 29-year-old males sitting on their couches playing video games.”

Chloe, who walks to work at a grocery store because she can’t afford a car, and doesn’t even own a TV, might have a few words in response. But like many in the district, she had no idea Mike Johnson was her congressman. That, too, is by design.

Across the world, Ukraine reminded us what actual resistance looks like. A Ukrainian drone took out a $100 million Russian Tu-22M3 strategic bomber right after it landed. No fanfare, no fuss, just a precise asymmetric strike that disabled one of Moscow’s long-range missile platforms. This is the second Tu-22M3 taken out by Ukraine since last year, and a sharp lesson in the power of small, nimble tech against sprawling imperial hardware.

But if you’d prefer a superhero over a drone, good news, he’s back. Captain Canuck, the 1970s maple-leaf-clad answer to Captain America, is suddenly having a renaissance. Why? Because Trump recently suggested annexing Canada, and the Great White North responded by dusting off its favorite patriotic icon and putting him on the cover of his 50th anniversary issue wagging a finger at Trump.

“In a sense, we have Mr. Trump to thank for a bit of resurgence,”
said creator Richard Comely, noting that Canadians are uniting around Captain Canuck as a symbol of sovereignty.

While Musk fuels DOGE and Trump dreams of dominion, Captain Canuck just laced up his boots and said, “Not today, eh.”