Jet2 Hell: Deportation, Ballrooms, and Booing the King of Grift

From SummerSlam boos to ICE TikToks, Trump’s regime is collapsing under the weight of its own grotesque performance art, and still grasping for forever power

Good morning from a slightly glitchy command center, where reboot counts are rivaling espresso shots and this loyal but lagging machine is hanging on with the same stubbornness as the man currently desecrating the White House. If you’ve emailed lately and I haven’t gotten back, know that it’s not you, it’s the spinning beach ball of death and a daily dose of presidential disaster that eats up all available RAM. Speaking of things wheezing toward obsolescence: let’s check in with Donald J. Trump.

At WWE SummerSlam, a crowd that once would’ve carried Trump like a golden calf booed him into the ring of irrelevance. This is the crowd that chanted “lock her up” and wore QAnon merch as formalwear, and even they’ve had enough. As boos rained down, Trump was golfing again, falsifying scores with the same commitment he shows to falsifying economic data. This time he claimed he shot a 69 at Bedminster, a number that is statistically more improbable than his hair being real. He posted this imaginary score on the official White House social media account, because apparently that’s now a place where presidents brag about cheating at golf while Gaza starves and Ukraine burns.

If that wasn’t dystopian enough, the same White House account posted a TikTok-style deportation video, gleefully soundtracked with Jess Glynne’s “Hold My Hand.” The caption? “When ICE books you a one-way Jet2 holiday to deportation.” Glynne, rightfully horrified, called it out as a grotesque misuse of her music, which was intended to promote unity and love, not state-sponsored cruelty. But of course, Trump’s media minions edited together footage of shackled immigrants being led onto planes like it was a summer vacation special. The agents’ faces were blurred; the detainees’ faces were not. That’s not oversight, it’s intimidation by design.

And in case the human rights violations weren’t branded clearly enough, Trump’s new “Make America Fit Again” initiative debuted its mascots: WWE’s Triple H and convicted rapist Lawrence Taylor. That’s right, our presidential youth fitness program is now led by a man who spits water theatrically and another who raped a 16-year-old girl. The gym class version of “grab ‘em by the p****.” It’s fitness with fascist flair. Because nothing says “America First” like handing over your children’s health curriculum to sex offenders and steroid-soaked kayfabe legends.

Meanwhile, the $200 million White House ballroom is moving forward. Half privately funded (or so they say), it will bulldoze the East Wing, traditionally the workspace of First Ladies, and replace it with gold-leaf opulence designed by Trump’s favorite Mar-a-Lago decorator. Trump floated letting “foreign leaders” chip in on the cost, because of course he did. A diplomatic Versailles, brought to you by whoever’s laundering money that week. International reactions have ranged from mockery to horror. Japanese media compared the spectacle to the Cultural Revolution, calling Trump’s war on intelligence, dissent, and transparency more Maoist than Mussolini. Others joked the “Trump Hall” would host Nobel Peace Prize ceremonies for war criminals.

And then, the truly sickening: The Daily Mail has begun serializing a new book by royal historian Andrew Lownie, revealing that in 2000, Donald Trump allegedly handed Prince Andrew a “list of masseuses” in the presence of Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell. The conversation, described as “disgusting,” occurred at an event where Trump and Andrew were bonding over Epstein’s connections and discussing golf course investments. Epstein’s former driver claims Andrew made out with an 18-year-old girl using cocaine in the car. In Trump’s own circle, this sort of thing was called networking. These aren’t wild allegations from the fringes, this is a respected royal biographer publishing details corroborated by insiders and witnesses. And still, no comment from the White House. No denial, just more silence and more rot.

Back on this side of the Atlantic, Heather Cox Richardson gave voice to the deepening dread that this isn’t just chaos, it’s conquest. Trump’s regime is looting what’s left of our institutions with the urgency of a man who knows time is running out. The ballroom is symbolic, yes, but it’s also tactical. He wants you to know he’s not leaving. He wants his grift gilded and televised. And while the spotlight is on that monstrosity, his foot soldiers are quietly stacking the judiciary with loyalists who, to quote Richardson, “don’t believe in the rule of law.” Like Emil Bove, just confirmed to the federal bench, who reportedly instructed DOJ staff to defy court orders on deportation flights. Trump is also pushing Chuck Grassley to end the blue-slip tradition, one of the last Senate tools to prevent extremist judges from being rammed through without home-state consent.

And then there’s the redistricting. Trump has openly demanded that Texas carve out five new Republican congressional seats, not in 2030, but now. In the middle of the decade. In a state already so gerrymandered it looks like a Rorschach test drawn during a seizure. This is the final phase of Operation RedMap: a vision of electoral autocracy where the outcome is never in doubt. The elections still happen, they just don’t matter. That was the Jim Crow model, it worked for nearly a century.

And through it all, the work goes on. Even if the old Mac protests, (replacement is due in ten days). Even if my inbox looks like a Superfund site. Even if the rage simmers so hot it threatens to short-circuit my keyboard. I’ll be back tomorrow with more, more truth, more resistance, more coffee. Until then, thank you for sticking with me, for sending your notes, your support, and your refusal to look away.

We’re not just reporting the news. We’re recording the warnings.