“I Have a List”: Trump Melts Down on the Lawn, Blames Everyone but Himself

Amid scandal, subpoenas, and sex trafficking fallout, the President deflects, lies, threatens, markets his golf course, and maybe, just maybe, offers clemency to Ghislaine Maxwell.

Donald Trump’s White House lawn meltdown on July 25 was less a press conference and more a public display of authoritarian unraveling, economic illiteracy, and self-serving deflection, all served with a side of golfing grift.

Let’s start with the headline moment: asked if he would pardon Ghislaine Maxwell, a convicted sex trafficker with fresh ties to Trump’s own Department of Justice, Trump replied, “It’s something I haven’t thought about... I’m allowed to do it.” Which is like saying, “I haven’t poisoned the well, but I do own the cup.” He could’ve simply said “No.” Instead, we got a smirking refusal to rule out clemency for a woman who facilitated the rape of minors by his once-close friend, Jeffrey Epstein.

Then came the finger-pointing. Trump ranted that the media should focus on “Clinton,” “Larry Summers,” and the “president of Harvard.” He claimed he was the real victim, despite multiple independent confirmations (now including The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times) that his name appears in Epstein’s records and that he sent Epstein a glowing birthday note: “Our enigmas never age. Our secrets will stay secret forever.”

He tried to weasel out of it with the classic “someone could have written it for me” dodge. Sure, maybe it was Imaginary Trump, ghostwriting love notes to pedophiles between rounds at Mar-a-Lago.

When asked about the DOJ’s meetings with Maxwell, being led by his own former criminal defense attorney and close friend of Maxwell’s lawyer, Trump praised Todd Blanche as “a fantastic man” and “great lawyer.” No explanation why that lawyer is now shaping federal prosecution strategy for one of the most explosive abuse cases in modern history.

From there, the meltdown expanded into international trade gibberish, with Trump claiming his administration is “sending letters” to countries, which somehow constitutes binding trade deals. You send a letter, poof, it’s a contract. It’s like Mad Libs with tariffs.

Asked about Canada, he shrugged: “We haven’t really had a lot of luck with Canada. Maybe they just pay tariffs.” Translation: he’s lost the trade talks and now wants to call it victory by invoice.

On Gaza, Trump declared there’s no plan for a ceasefire because, according to him, “Hamas wants to die” and “everyone wants to die.” This grotesque dehumanization of Palestinians, while he pretends not to notice the humanitarian catastrophe unfolding should disqualify any serious diplomatic credibility, but here we are.

When asked about French President Emmanuel Macron’s recognition of Palestine, Trump dismissed Macron as irrelevant: “What he says doesn’t matter.” A bizarre thing to say about a key NATO ally, especially right before flying to a country (Scotland) where his very presence is sparking protests.

Then came the economic whiplash: Trump, just one week after declaring “no smart president would let the dollar slide,” now says “a weak dollar makes you a hell of a lot more money.” He even claimed the U.S. has “wiped out inflation,” which is… news to the millions of Americans watching grocery and back-to-school prices skyrocket thanks in part to his own tariff policies.

Speaking of tariffs, he floated the idea of a “rebate” to Americans funded by tariff revenue, a scheme that sounds suspiciously like his never-delivered “Doge rebate” or that time he said Mexico would pay for the wall via mystical accounting. Tariffs, of course, are taxes on consumers. You can’t rebate the public for something you’re actively overcharging them for and then call it a win.

Then, as if this parade of delusion needed a grand finale, Trump promoted his own Turnberry golf resort in Scotland, calling it “the best resort in the world” and announcing he’d be dining with the prime minister. He’s literally leaving a criminal-political firestorm behind in Washington to promote his own for-profit business abroad while DOJ officials negotiate with his convicted former friend’s accomplice. All that’s missing is a coupon code.

Oh wait, there’s more: he then threatened to take over Washington, D.C., saying he has the right to “remove” the homeless and run the city himself. Yes, really. That’s straight-up martial law rhetoric wrapped in real estate disgust.

Finally, Trump ended with an unhinged accusation that “Obama’s a criminal” and that the Supreme Court’s presidential immunity ruling now “helps him a lot.” He even added, “Obama owes me big.” For what? Still unclear. Possibly for not getting hit by a golf cart during one of Trump’s cognitive spirals.

More than a meltdown, this was a manifesto. And beneath the chaos, one thing was made brutally clear: Trump is not trying to clear his name, he’s trying to rewrite the record. From Epstein to tariffs to Gaza, his only plan is self-preservation, even if it means torching the Constitution, international law, and economic logic along the way.

Next stop, Scotland. Where he’ll tee off, sell some Turnberry dinner plates, and pretend the walls aren’t closing in back home.