Moon Nukes, Bank Heists, and Yard Sale Diplomacy

From strapping a reactor to a rocket to selling out Ukraine without an invitation, Trump’s America is running on hubris, grift, and distraction, and even Canada’s Girl Guides are bailing.

Good morning! NASA, under the inspired leadership of acting administrator Sean Duffy, is strapping a nuclear reactor to a rocket and aiming for the moon by 2030, because nothing says “American exceptionalism” like combining the budget cuts of a dying empire with the radioactive ambition of a Bond villain. The logic is simple: the lunar night lasts two weeks, solar panels nap the whole time, and batteries alone won’t cut it. So the plan is to haul up a 100-kilowatt reactor, enough juice for 80 homes back on Earth, at a cost of about $3 billion, while 20% of NASA’s workforce bails under Trump’s deferred resignation purge and Congress haggles over a budget shortfall. Duffy insists the U.S. must “claim the best part of the moon for America” before China or Russia does, which is one way to describe international cooperation if you’ve never actually seen any. Critics warn the five-year timeline is fantasy and that maybe, just maybe, we should focus on science rather than staging a lunar land grab. But in the Trump Space Doctrine, readiness is optional; being first is all that matters.

Back on Earth, Trump is busy perfecting what some pundits call “the greatest bank heist in history.” The scheme? Reshuffle the IRS like a rigged deck, install loyalist Scott Bessant as acting commissioner (his sixth appointment to the role this year), and funnel billions in tariff revenue into a sovereign wealth fund he controls. Add in a suspiciously timed push to privatize Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, and you start to see the outlines: crash the system, scoop up distressed assets, and call it populism. The sovereign wealth fund would become a slush pile for pet projects and cronies, perhaps even helping out the Elon Musks of the world who never met a taxpayer subsidy they didn’t love. Meanwhile, Trump is still threatening the courts over his tariffs, warning of a Great Depression if they’re struck down, because in Trump’s economy, either he wins, or America burns.

And in foreign policy, he’s applying the same transactional genius abroad: suggesting Ukraine and Russia “swap” territories to end the war. Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy needed exactly five seconds to reject that idea, reminding the world that his constitution forbids ceding land to an occupier and that Ukraine isn’t about to surrender one-fifth of its territory in exchange for a “foothold” in Russia’s Kursk region. To make matters worse, Zelenskyy hasn’t even been invited to Trump’s Aug. 15 Alaska meeting with Vladimir Putin, a Kremlin PR bonanza served up on U.S. soil. Trump sweetening the deal with talk of territorial swaps turns it into full-blown appeasement. Honestly, you wouldn’t want this guy negotiating your yard sale, let alone your sovereignty.

North of the border, Canada is reading the room. Prime Minister Mark Carney, flanked by Air Force personnel at CFB Trenton, announced he’s quadrupling defense spending by decade’s end, deepening ties with Europe, reviewing U.S.-made F-35 purchases, and generally preparing for a world order that doesn’t involve Washington. “We’re not going to do BS deals,” Carney said of trade talks with Trump. Relations have gotten so bad that Canada’s Girl Guides, their version of the Girl Scouts, have canceled all trips to the U.S. over safety concerns tied to Trump’s immigration dragnets and concentration camps. Tourism from Canada to the U.S. is down 32%, unions are warning against travel, and Ottawa is cozying up to Mexico and the EU. It’s a polite but unmistakable message: we’ll call you if we need you, but don’t wait by the phone.

Meanwhile, back in New York’s Northern District, Trump campaign alum John Sarcone, a man with zero prosecutorial experience, is living proof that in MAGA-world, loyalty trumps competence. Judges refused to make him a permanent U.S. attorney, so the administration gave him the title “special attorney” and kept him in place without Senate confirmation. His claim to fame? Milking a “life-threatening” knife attack in Albany for Fox & Friends airtime, only for surveillance footage to show the assailant yelling from a safe distance. Sarcone also listed a boarded-up, vacant house as his official residence to meet federal requirements, despite actually living in hotels. Now a watchdog group has filed a bar complaint for dishonesty and misrepresentation, making him both a symbol of MAGA legal rot and the least convincing action hero since Steven Seagal started filming in Eastern Europe.

And just in case you thought the DOJ was still in the business of serving the American people, Pam Bondi’s shop just issued a grand jury subpoena to New York Attorney General Letitia James, the woman who secured a $450 million fraud judgment against Trump, for allegedly violating Trump’s civil rights. Legal experts say the subpoena is laughable, predict it will be quashed, and note it’s more about distraction than law. The problem for Trump is that this particular distraction isn’t working: the call to release the Epstein files has now spread to his own base, with even Dan Bongino demanding sunlight. When your cheerleaders want you to air the dirt, flooding the zone with bogus subpoenas just makes you look desperate.

And after all that, I can finally report that this entire roundup was produced on a machine that didn’t need to pause for a nap between sentences. After hours of coaxing my old warhorse of a Mac into handing over my files, I’m finally running on a machine that doesn’t take coffee breaks between keystrokes. The new processor means I can use tools my old setup couldn’t dream of, now I just have to learn what all the buttons do without accidentally launching a rocket or a cryptocurrency. And yes, before you ask, Brad Pitt still sends me friend requests. Persistence is admirable, but Brad, darling, I’m busy taking down authoritarian kleptocrats.