Speech!
He gave a speech about tariffs and toilets, or maybe it was about bribes and bidets. Because the speech was delivered in grimaces and spit, it was open to interpretation. His teleprompter said FROTH. FOAM. FROTH. FAITH. FROTH. BAIT. Summing up, he danced on a stack of bibles and swore, as executives and ambassadors stuffed bitcoin down his pants. The stars and stripes behind him had stars of real gold. The pupils of his eyes were gold coins. With a touch he turned his daughter to gold, and loved her too much more than ever. He complained about vagrants and violence, or maybe it was about showerheads and satire. All the indicators tell us no one was happy. He blamed everyone’s grandmother. The stock market broke another record. No one was happy.
— Ian Erinson
16 November 2025