The Weave Commander, the War, and the Womb

Trump’s Middle East delusions, Ukraine’s rejection of surrender, and a mother’s body held hostage by the state of Georgia

Donald Trump wrapped up his Gulf tour by delivering what may go down as the most unintentionally comedic foreign policy address of the 21st century, an unhinged stream-of-consciousness performance to U.S. troops stationed at Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar. Intended as a rousing tribute to military strength and a platform for arms deals, the speech quickly derailed into an incoherent riff that The Daily Show aptly diagnosed as a "Weave Alert", complete with imaginary lumberjack championships, weirdly sensual nods to the troops, and an apparent hostage situation involving singer Lee Greenwood.

In what began as a campaign-style intro peppered with gold-plated nationalism, Trump praised the troops, the weapons, the budget (over $1 trillion, "a lot of stuff"), and of course, himself. But within minutes, he was off the rails, name-dropping former congressman and current Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy, whose qualifications include being the world champion of climbing trees. "You miss a shot," Trump explained, "and you're coming down faster than the human body was meant to come down."

Defense contractors and Gulf dignitaries were presumably trying to make sense of this lumberjack tangent when Trump took a sudden detour into aviation philosophy: two engines good, one engine bad. He pitched a sixth-generation fighter jet he called the F-47, then mused about renaming the F-35 as the F-55, which he claimed would have “double engines, because I like two engines on a plane.” The Daily Show’s Jordan Klepper suggested the audience's only appropriate response: “Can we just give you our bribe and go home?”

And speaking of bribes, the backdrop to this rhetorical faceplant was the real news: a $42 billion weapons deal with Qatar and the delivery of a luxury private jet reportedly worth $400 million, complete with gold-plated walls and a gift tag from the Emir. It’s the kind of thing that makes the Constitution’s Emoluments Clause light up like a Vegas marquee. Legal experts are already mapping out potential lawsuits, noting that under the Constitution, no president may accept “any present…from any king, prince or foreign state” without congressional consent. But why ask Congress when you can just say, as Trump did on Air Force One, “What kind of loser wouldn’t take the jet?”

However, the so-called "gift" comes with a catch: the aircraft would require extensive retrofitting to meet the stringent security and communication standards of Air Force One. Experts estimate that these modifications could take years and cost billions of dollars, making it unlikely that the jet would be operational during Trump's current term.

Back onstage, Trump did not disappoint his most loyal audience: himself. He praised Theo Von (“Barron said he’s a big guy”), gave Lee Greenwood a shoutout for turning a decades-old country tune into a fascist national anthem, and speculated aloud about giving himself the Congressional Medal of Honor for surviving a routine landing in Iraq. And in what felt like a surreal victory lap, he bragged that America didn’t celebrate winning World War II enough, vowed to rename the Iron Dome as the “Golden Dome,” and floated a new national holiday for World War I, because, in his words, “We won that war too.”

When the speech finally limped to a close after more than an hour, what remained was the unmistakable impression of a man who believes he alone can fix it, whatever “it” may be, even if “it” is the shattered logic of his own remarks. The audience, composed of bewildered generals, defense contractors, and troops probably wishing they’d pulled border duty instead, applauded politely and pretended they hadn’t just been forced to endure a teleprompter-free hostage situation with the Weave Commander-in-Chief.

Just hours after his military bedtime story in Qatar, Trump declared that peace in Ukraine is “impossible” until he meets with Vladimir Putin. This, naturally, came as news to the Ukrainians, the Russians, and presumably Putin himself, who has yet to confirm any interest in meeting with Trump, let alone acknowledge him as a legitimate player in current negotiations.

The statement, delivered from the press cabin of Air Force One, followed the collapse of the first direct peace talks between Ukraine and Russia since 2022. Hosted in Istanbul and brokered by Turkish officials, the Friday meetings ended after just two hours, plagued by what Kyiv called “unacceptable demands.” Chief among them: that Ukrainian forces withdraw from Ukrainian territory to implement a ceasefire, essentially allowing Russia to claim victory through table scraps.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky made clear his aim: a 30-day unconditional ceasefire. What he got instead was Moscow's familiar playbook, maximalist demands with no intention of compromise, followed by pre-scripted blame for Ukraine’s refusal to surrender its land. Russian officials, predictably, insisted the talks weren’t officially over, just “paused”, a euphemism that now rivals "strategic regrouping" for best post-invasion theater.

Trump, meanwhile, decided that the only thing missing from the diplomatic breakdown was him. “If I don’t go, Putin’s not going,” he told reporters, apparently forgetting that neither leader was invited. He then suggested that “in two or three weeks,” after he and Putin “get together,” the world could be “a much, much safer place.” Whether that means more planes, fewer Ukrainians, or a new Trump golf course outside Kherson is anyone’s guess.

Secretary of State Marco Rubio, now stationed nearby in Turkey but politely excluded from the actual talks, offered a more sober assessment: “We don’t have high expectations.” A line that could double as the official motto of U.S. foreign policy under Trump 2.0.

As for Kyiv, officials are reportedly furious at the notion that territorial concessions are even on the table. “We genuinely don’t know how this could possibly work on the ground,” said one Ukrainian diplomat, describing Moscow’s demands as a recipe for “unprecedented chaos.” Translation: no one is interested in being part of Trump’s next photo op unless it comes with real leverage, and possibly a backup plan for when Putin doesn't answer the call.

While Trump waxed poetic about lumberjacks and fighter jets in the Middle East, back home, his administration quietly moved to weaponize the National Guard, not for natural disasters or civil defense, but for mass deportations.

In a stunning escalation, the Department of Homeland Security has formally requested 20,000 National Guard troops to assist with the removal of undocumented immigrants across the United States. If approved, this would mark the first time in U.S. history that National Guard forces are deployed on a nationwide basis to enforce immigration policy within the interior.

The plan, first reported by The New York Times and confirmed by NPR, is under legal review by Pentagon attorneys. So far, no governors have been formally asked to volunteer their troops, but the mere request sets a dangerous precedent: blurring the line between military service and domestic policing, a hallmark of authoritarian governance.

DHS insists the role of the Guard is still undefined, as to whether it includes transportation, detention, and arrests. Texas Governor Greg Abbott has already opened the door by authorizing his state’s Guard members to make immigration arrests back in February. The Trump administration appears poised to nationalize that model, bypassing the legal and logistical checks that typically prevent the use of soldiers in domestic law enforcement.

Complicating matters further is Trump’s recent order to expand the deportation force by 20,000 new officers. But with federal hiring lagging behind executive fantasy, the National Guard represents the fastest shortcut to mass removals, and, in the words of one DHS insider, “show-of-force theater.”

For now, there’s no indication Trump will take the drastic step of federalizing the Guard, which would wrest control from governors and trigger significant legal challenges. But the last time that happened was the 1992 Los Angeles riots. And that wasn’t for civil immigration enforcement.

With over 10,000 active-duty troops already deployed at the southern border, up from 2,500 under Biden, and DHS now controlling a 60-foot-wide buffer zone called the Roosevelt Reservation, the militarization of Trump’s immigration crackdown is no longer hypothetical. It’s here, it’s expanding, and it’s pointing inward.

As Trump plays strongman abroad and militarizes immigration at home, his domestic agenda is hitting turbulence, this time from his own party. On Thursday, House Republican hardliners staged a quiet revolt against Trump’s signature tax legislation, threatening to derail a key Budget Committee vote and exposing deep fractures in the GOP’s governing coalition.

The bill in question would extend Trump-era tax cuts at a cost of $3.72 trillion over the next decade, according to the Joint Tax Committee. In true MAGA fashion, it promises massive corporate benefits, gimmicky nods to the working class, like lifting taxes on tips, and yet somehow still manages to gut programs like Medicaid. The plan is to shift the burden, deepen the deficit, and brand it as populism.

But that sales pitch isn’t working on everyone. At least four Republican members of the House Budget Committee, Representatives Ralph Norman, Andrew Clyde, Chip Roy, and Josh Brecheen, are threatening to block the bill unless it includes deeper Medicaid cuts, arguing that the current proposal doesn’t go far enough to rein in government spending. At the same time, GOP moderates from high-tax states like New York, California, and New Jersey are demanding an expanded state and local tax (SALT) deduction, which would ease the tax burden on their wealthier constituents. Hardliners have flatly rejected that idea, insisting that any increase in SALT deductions be paid for by even more aggressive cuts to safety net programs, especially Medicaid. The result is a standoff: one wing of the party wants to gut social spending to bankroll tax relief for red-state donors; the other wants to preserve local deductions for blue-state donors without going full scorched earth on healthcare. Either way, it’s the working poor who get squeezed.

Chairman Jodey Arrington of Texas insisted he’s “confident” the measure will advance, but by Thursday night, the vote was teetering. With only a 21–16 majority on the committee, just four GOP defections would be enough to stall the bill indefinitely.

Speaker Mike Johnson tried to brush off the conflict as “routine last-minute wrangling,” but it’s clear this is more than a scheduling hiccup. It’s a structural problem: the MAGA wing wants scorched-earth austerity, the moderates want plausible deniability, and Trump wants a win he can crow about at rallies.

This leaves Republicans in the awkward position of trying to sell a bill they can’t agree on, using math that doesn’t add up, to voters who are already drowning in rent, debt, and inflation. And all of it is wrapped in the classic Trumpian logic of trickle-down salvation: cut from the poor, gift the rich, and call it patriotism.

While much of the country has been watching international drama and Capitol Hill theatrics, Mother Nature has been staging her own rebellion, with far less media attention than warranted. Severe storms swept across the Midwest and South over the past 48 hours, downing power lines, uprooting trees, and leaving hundreds of thousands without electricity. Michigan alone saw over 200,000 outages, and tornado warnings were issued across Bay, Midland, and Saginaw counties.

The South isn’t faring much better. The Storm Prediction Center has issued a “Moderate Risk” alert, a high-level threat classification, for parts of Missouri, Indiana, and Kentucky, citing likely large hail, severe thunderstorms, and potential tornadoic activity. As climate-fueled instability escalates, these warning systems become ever more vital. But whether anyone’s listening under this administration is another matter.

The Federal Emergency Management Agency, once a bulwark of disaster readiness, now operates under a leader who sounds more like a drill sergeant than a civil servant. Acting Administrator David Richardson, handpicked by Trump and installed without Senate confirmation, recently warned FEMA staff: “Don’t get in my way… I will run right over you.” That was not a metaphor.

An internal review, quietly released this week, found FEMA unprepared for the 2025 hurricane season, which officially begins June 1. The agency is short-staffed, fragmented, and increasingly being told to push recovery responsibilities back onto the states, many of which can’t afford them. This is part of the Trump administration’s broader deconstruction playbook: hollow out the federal government, shift the burden, blame the locals when things go sideways.

And it’s not just preparation that’s unraveling. The Pentagon’s recent control of the Roosevelt Reservation means tens of thousands of troops are now on storm-prone terrain, unavailable for domestic disaster relief. With DHS requesting 20,000 National Guard troops for deportations, FEMA’s already thin disaster-response bench may soon be asked to handle overlapping crises with zero backup.

If you live in a redlined flood zone, a trailer park, or anywhere a derecho might land, good luck. Washington is busy chasing enemies, inventing emergencies, and making it clear that your survival is not a line item in this year's budget.

We end today in Georgia, where the state’s chilling new frontier of reproductive control has collided with tragedy.

Adriana Smith, a mother of two, was declared brain-dead last week after suffering a catastrophic cerebral hemorrhage at just 23 weeks pregnant. Under ordinary circumstances, life support might have been withdrawn, allowing her family to grieve, say goodbye, and lay her to rest. But not in Georgia, not in the post-Roe, Trump-era South.

Instead, Adriana has become the property of the state. Doctors are now being compelled to keep her body functioning by artificial means, not for her own survival, but to serve as an incubator for the fetus she was carrying. Whether or not the fetus is viable, or even healthy, remains unclear. And when asked who would care for the child if it is delivered alive, state officials reportedly said the family would bear no legal responsibility. Just the emotional weight of a decision they were never allowed to make.

This case is not an anomaly. It is the logical outcome of a legal regime that views women not as autonomous individuals but as vessels. A system that bans abortion, guts maternal health care, shames “welfare moms,” and then offers no alternative once a pregnancy begins. A system that lets “sperm donors” walk away unscathed while forcing grieving families to live out a political ideology dressed up as moral certainty.

And so Adriana’s children, already robbed of their mother, now watch her body linger in limbo, pulsing with machines, stripped of dignity, collateral in a war they didn’t ask to be part of.

Georgia law doesn’t see Adriana anymore. It only sees potential. And in the harshest irony of all, once that potential is born, the same politicians forcing her body to carry to term will do everything in their power to ensure that child grows up with no healthcare, no safety net, and no help.

If this is what “pro-life” looks like, it’s indistinguishable from cruelty.