A Candid Interview with Vivek Ramaswamy

We managed to get an interview with Vivek Ramaswamy. He had just announced his run for Ohio Governor when we got to him.

OK, so someone's got to ask this? Why did you leave DOGE?

I was one of the founders of DOGE. In fact, I was the first to come up with the idea. Elon was on his phone when I first mentioned it and I now realize he was actually posting the idea—On X! Right then!—and claiming it for himself, even before I had finished talking. 

In the best interests of our great country, I smiled and took it on the chin. But once we got started, I was actually given menial tasks like polishing Elon's shoes and combing his young son's hair. As you all know, I always speak my mind. So when I told Musk that his son had dreadful dandruff and earwax, he threw a sissy fit. Next thing I know, I'm out.

Do you think Musk's doing the right thing?

Well, that depends on what you mean by the word "right". As a matter of fact, it might be the only thing left!

[breaks into toothy bleached smile...]

You see! I haven't lost my touch!

Musk—a white guy who wasn't even born here—spent 275 million dollars on the Trump's Presidential campaign and is now the de-facto President. You—a brown guy born in the USA—spent 20 million on your own campaign that wimpily ended in a Trump derision: "a vote for Vivek is a wasted vote." You closed ranks quickly, but you didn't even get a cabinet position. Where did you go off the rails?

Now that is such a fuckin' loaded question. And you are race-baiting me! I ran because I thought I was the best candidate for the job. Look! 275 million dollars would have put even a baboon in the hot seat. Maybe Chris Christie too. Possibly even Kamala, for that matter.

Did you make a mistake running as a Hindu?

Yes! That was a huge mistake, I will have to admit. Look, this country is not ready for a Hindu President. Just ask Tulsi Gabbard! Maybe I should have run as Vikki Ramie Samuel. Very proper. Very biblical. 

So why Governor of Ohio? You didn't even get Vance's vacated Senate seat?

Look! Ohio voted three times for President Trump. I had a lot to do with it. The United States knows now that we need businessmen in elected office—to slash, to fillet, and to clean. And that's exactly what Ohio will get with me. Watch me squeeze something yet from that 20 million dollars!

OK, now for a lighter one. Musk recently brandished a chainsaw to display his bloodcurdling enthusiasm for destroying bureaucracy? What tool would you have picked?

Shiva's trident! Got you there! My turn to bait you...

Seriously, as a constitutional lawyer with deep respect for the Second Amendment, I would have picked a semi-automatic AR-15.

If push came to shove, would you consider running as Nikki Haley's running mate in 2028?

What an inane question! Who are you guys.. again?

Look! Nimarata's goose is cooked. She represents a party that doesn't exist anymore. She was terrific at bearing her fangs at toothless tigers at the UN, while getting nothing done. The UN Headquarters is sitting on 20 acres of prime property in midtown Manhattan. For what? For some African tinpot despot to come and drool nonsense for hours, so we can fill a sprawling room and hire DEI Swahili translators? 

In fact, President Trump should shut down the entire facility and hand the property over in a 100-year lease to the Trump Organization. I should have put this thought into President Trump's head, back in December... 

Ah! Fuck me! That was a completely missed opportunity! 

I could have added: "Mr President, Don Jr. could run this... outta the back of his hand! 

Shit! I would now be chomping fat stuffed dates and slurping dark olives with MBS in the Arabian desert... while l'il Marco would be back in Florida, trying out men's shoes with hidden pumps.

But coming back to your point—No, I would not pick Nikki as my running mate!

What is your message to the Indian American community?

Who? Oh! You mean those highly intelligent morons who fail to tell which side the bread is buttered?

OK, so you heard this from me: In ten years, almost none of these guys will remain a Democrat. Those that still do will be sharing needles in San Francisco.

JD Vance took your spot on the ticket that many felt was rightfully yours. Both of you have Indian wives coming from traditional backgrounds. Today, Usha Vance can be found on Airforce Two, when she's not sitting—feet up!—on Airforce One, while Apoorva Ramaswamy is on diaper duty when she's not sweating it in the doctor's office. Does this hurt?

That's it!! Your fuckin' news organization is worse than the Associated Press... you will be banned from Ohio when I'm Governor!

[stomping off...]

A Biological Oddity

In a stunning paper on human evolutionary development, researchers described a small native human population growing a rudimentary tail. 

Scientists at the Max Plank Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology at Leipzig, reported in an article in Nature this week that a small set of humans were regrowing a tail that was lost at least nine to ten million years ago, dating back to the human-gorilla (Hominini-Gorillini) common ancestor, during the late Miocene.

The tail was first observed in detailed analyses of photographs of human subjects. The researchers developed an AI-based technology that could analyze a photo by stripping off clothing and closely examining the underlying structure. 

The authors report that every tail specimen started aft of the limbs but grew afore, demonstrating a "conspicuous oblique dorsal aspect". In lay-person terms, this may best be described as a "tail between the legs" stance. 

All photos were taken by the security cameras at Mar-a-Lago. Citing privacy concerns, the paper would not report any more details on the subjects. No cases have been reported in women.

Our Senior Anatomical Correspondent was given access to several of the photos. She reported spotting one short stocky bald man with a high-chested high-heeled woman on his arm wearing almost nothing, save a tattoo that eerily resembled the logo of ecommerce giant, Amazon. The other was a brooding younger man with a hoodie draped around a pale and singularly unsmiling face. The photo shows his arm stretched out, in what appeared to be a punch thrown at another man in the background, bearing strong resemblance to billionaire Elon Musk. 

Most other subjects wore blue-grey suits and bright red baseball hats, suggestive of Republican Congressmen. Like the images of brutalized slaves carved into a triumphal Roman arch, they trudged forward, beaten and bowed. Blurred images of hands suggested vibration, possibly from shivering, even in the Florida heat. 

But what nature giveth, nature taketh away. Initial observations indicate that evolution is already counterbalancing the addition of the tail at the rear end of the subject, by shortening the penis at the front end—a conservation mechanism often deployed in nature to avoid wasting resources. 

In contrast to a vestigial human tail that reflects function lost through evolution, the authors are calling this phenomenon a testigial tail, to reflect an adjacent body part lost through unbridled subservience.

Thanksgiving at Mar-a-Lago

We happened to have one of our correspondents at the Trumps' Thanksgiving.

The President-elect went around the table, generously inviting his guests to offer their profuse thanks to him.

Elon opened. 

"I want to thank you for treating me like your own family. I have been parked here at Mar-a-Lago since the election. Having slept on Tesla factory floors many nights, I truly appreciate the comfortable camp cot in the staff quarters. 

President Trump! Congratulations! You won the popular vote with 51% of the electorate, or almost 76 million Americans, while I have the mandate of over 206 million on X. Together, we will reform the government and trap its dodgers under the DOGE program. 

And thank you, Melania, for letting me have your house slippers and your old silk pajamas."

Vance went next.

"Oosha and I are immensely grateful and thankful for being part of the biggest revolution since the Civil War. Trump 47 will go down as the greatest rule of all time. The time when hillbillies, rednecks, and hicks will rule over nerds, weenies, and wonks. 

Thank you Mr President for inviting us to this lovely dinner. As you all know, Oosha is vegetarian and she has brought with her... what's it again, honey? Yeah! It's called curd rice and it goes with super hot Andhra chilly pickle. Give it a go, if you'd like."

Vivek follows...

"I am proud of what all of us here have collectively achieved. I want to sincerely thank President Trump for insisting that I run—a perfect political ruse to draw away and marginalize all opposition. We cleared the deck early and could successfully garrote grumpy gramps Biden and lacerate lame laffin' Kamala. Enjoy the dinner everyone. Eat as much as you like! My wife Apoorva is a laryngologist and can help you swallow almost anything!"

"Except your ego, Vivek!" says Jared calmly, amidst loud laughter resounding all around the room. Musk is holding his sides, laughing.

Everyone now looks to Marco Rubio, by the side of Vivek.

"Stand up Marco! Take a bow! Ladies and gentlemen, our new Secretary of State!" announces Don Jr.

Marco, who's been standing from the beginning, smiles wanly.

"Let me also say that I am truly delighted and thankful to be part of this new administration. We will bring to heel all Arab countries, except of course [looking at Jared] our Saudi friends, all the dumb Europeans who don't pay their fair share, and the Chinese who have been swindling us for generations. Iran! Forget exploding cellphones... you'll find out about our micro drones after they get under your turbans, hijabs, and beards! 

And I'm tired of the Indians blowing kisses at Putin. I will tell them they're either with us or against us!

You can see our impact already! Thanks to the trouncing Trump win and my announcement for State, Biden has been forced to negotiate a ceasefire between the Israelis and Hezbollah..."

"Alright, alright l'il Marco! It's Thanksgivin'! You can sit now..." adds Trump.

Marco sits down with a sheepish red face that disappears behind the large brown turkey at the middle of the table.

Next it's Melania's father, Viktor... who stands up and pulls out a hand-written yellow legal sheet.

"Thank you everyone for thees wonderful Thanksgiving. I would like to thank Prezidint Thrump, my lovely dother Melania, my dheer wife Amalija who is no more, my grandsun Baaron, my older daughter Ines, my Slovenian friends Hana, Jakob... Mila, Oskar... Lucija, Boris, Valentina..."

"OK pops!" butts in Trump. "Sit down and hold on to Baron's hand. The turkey will be carved soon..."

Eric comes on.

"Duh! 'Nuff said. Time to eat! Don and I went hunting yesterday and we nailed a python and a gator. That's what's in your burgers today. Bon Appétit!

Finally, Trump stands up.

"Dear friends and family, I am delighted to have you all join me today in the most important holiday of our Nation. I hope you all enjoy the delicious turkey. I will have you all know that this was exactly the big bird that was pardoned by sleepy Joe Biden earlier this week. 

Enjoy the white meat! It's going to be red all the way from here on!"

The Morning After

The day after the election, the phone was ringing off the hook at Mar-a-Lago, as congratulations kept pouring in. We happened to have an inside line.

[Ring...]

Hello... President Trump! Congratulations! This was a blowout like there's never been...

Who's this?

Marco Rubio!

L'il Marco. Get ready... you stood by me and you may even get considered Secretary of State. Or maybe Interior. Or maybe nothing at all. Hard to tell now... anyway, get some elevator shoes if you want to stand up for anything... Also, I want you to find DeSantimonious. Get yourself something fat and long. And when you find him, I would hope you know where to take it.

[Ring...]

Congratulations Mr President! [voice trailing off...]

Who's this?

Chris Christie! I know, I know... let me just explain...

Fat Christie! You have the fuckin' nerve to call me, you fat son-of-a-bitch! 

Let me just explain... Mr President... I made a huge mistake. We go back thirty years...

Just go fuck yourself Christie... and stop wheezing on my goddamn phone!

[dial tone cuts in...]

[Ring...]

Godfa.. er President Trump!! We did it! We did it, Mr President! We did it! You're the greatest comeback kid of all time! The greatest President since Washington! [salivating sounds...]

Who's this?

Vivek. Vivek Ramaswami!

Thank you Vivek! I am honored. You stood by me through thick n' thin. You didn't even criticize me on the campaign trail even as you polled less than 2% and were forced to quit. But I appreciate it. 

I'm here to help Mr President! 

Listen, you might be a good one for maybe Attorney General. Of course you will dismiss every case against me. Then we go after the bastard prosecutors: Fani Willis, Jack Smith. I want a one-way ticket for Letitia James. We're then going to take it to my Generals... And while we do this, reopen the bridge-gate case on Fat Christie! Okay?

Just ask for it, Mr President!

[Ring...]

Mr President! I really want to congratulate you! This is big and you have my whole...

Who the fuck is this?

Nikki Haley, Sir. I just want to let you know... it was just the heat of the primaries. I served you well at the UN and can surely do it again...

Nikki, stop!! You aren't getting groundswoman at Mar-a-Lago!

Nikki! You're nothing to me now. You're not a MAGA Republican, you're not a friend. I don't want to know you or what you do. I don't want to see you in Washington, I don't want you near my White House. When you come to see anyone in government, I want to know a day in advance, so I won't be there. Do you understand?

[Ring...]

Con-gra-jo-la-tions! Mis-ter Pre-si-dent. This is Xi Jinping!

Hello President Xi! Thank you! This is indeed an honor. But I have to thank you. Your China virus took me out of office... but the same China virus created the inflation that brought me back in! Thank. You. China. Virus!  

Listen, I'm going ahead with the tariffs. We will go 100% and you know I talk serious. I may even double it. We'll put it on everything. So, here's my offer. I'll drop it to 50%, open up some silicon chips, and we'll look the other way on Taiwan! You have at it. But you will buy 100% of your soybeans from us and sole source from Boeing. Musk buys a 49% stake in BYD and Jared gets on the Board. Someday—and that day may never come—I'll call upon you to take out Iran.

[Ring...]

This is Musk! Who's calling?

Elon!! This is your President Trump!

Congratulations Mr President! We just went MA-DEE-VAL on the Dems, did we not!! The market swoons over our victory. I made back 500 times what I spent on the campaign! I don't want a cabinet position. I'll come in when you want me to clean up. I fired 80% of Twitter and nothing changed. We will create an Office of Government Efficiency. We will call it Y. And that's exactly the question we will ask! Why? Why Education? Why EPA? 

And we'll also get Baron an internship at Tesla... it comes with stock options. Bigly, Mr President.

This Election is Confusing my Cat!

We have a cat. Some of you may even have met him. Luca is an orange tabby: a pensive, intelligent, and independent creature of habit who hates change, mistrusts authority, and abhors any form of centralized control that seeks to tell him when he should take a walk, eat, or shit. He's clearly a conservative. 

This election has been distressingly confusing for conservative Luca. He proudly lines his cat house with a newspaper front page that headlined the 2017 Trump Inauguration. He is exceedingly proud to share the same hair color. He hates Kamala because she stands for People. What about Cats?  

But Luca is befuddled by all the anti-Chinese rhetoric from the Right. Luca is pro-Chinese ever since one of his buddies convinced him that Chinese could be ardently anti-dog. Luca knows childless cat ladies are clearly good for cats, so he thinks JD Vance is a fuckin' moron bitch for disparaging lovable cat ladies. He even showed his recent and unambiguous displeasure for the VP candidate by peeing on a JD Vance photo in a newspaper some weeks ago.

Perhaps I omitted to tell you that his methods are quite direct and sometimes pungent.

Luca watched the Presidential Debate sitting on the brown leather couch, shredded at the edges from his prior scratches of frustrating disapproval when liberals have endlessly pontificated on TV. He watched the entire debate with unflinching green cat eyes, but with his head approvingly tilted towards Trump. He bared his fangs once at Kamala when she sneered at Trump with her hand under her chin. He also displayed admirable gender equality by hissing once at each of the hapless moderators.

For all you cat-less child-bearers, these are clear and powerful signs of feline disapproval.

Things took a drastic turn when Trump talked about roving murderous immigrants terrorizing American streets, snatching and instantly devouring luckless cats and pluckless dogs from law-abiding households in Springfield. Luca jumped right off the couch and hid underneath. He had shrunk to about half his size. Nothing could get him out. 

He now sits at his usual spot on the window sill, terrified, staring out at the street between the gaps in the slats, looking out for ravenous immigrants. I have tried to assure him that Trump had also mentioned dog-baiting immigrants and don't we all know that dogs are dumb, trusting, and far easier to catch? Besides, they taste more like chicken. 

Alas, my feeble reassurances have not helped Luca much, leaving me convinced that he really needs sessions on the couch, rather than beneath it.

Now for a strange twist. Given our neighborhood and the kinds of people who generally visit our home, Luca thinks immigrants are white people. 

I have decided to leave that one alone.

Indian is the New Black!

Trump called JD over the weekend and we caught their one-sided conversation.

"JD, things aren’t looking too good. I’m watching the polls and the race is tight. We were hammering Sleepy Joe by twenty points... now we’re dead even. I know the Dems had to change a dead horse in the middle of the race, but now you’re pulling us down!  

I picked you because I wanted a ruthless Bannon, an appealing Bannon... a much better-looking Bannon!

Kamala's playing the Black card. We gotta paint her Indian. 

I pulled and posted a photo of her in a sari. Now everyone knows! You haven’t posted photos of your wife in a sari, have you? I saw your wedding photo in that long ethnic dress. You need to take 'em down. 

Listen JD, now I got no problem with this stuff... But what's the average Joe-MAGA-six-pack going to think? Maybe they think you're wearing Muslim! Maybe worse... something Iranian? I know, I know.... it sounds crazy, but we're better off taking that all down. I'm sorry to say this, but even the photos of your mother-in-law in ethnic clothes need to go.  

Also, yesterday Li'l Marco sent me a bunch of strange strange shit you’ve been saying about me over the years. How did this ever get past the vetting process! Did your Silicon Valley friends pull one on me and take all this stuff down?

And then you go apeshit over all this childless cat women stuff! On Fox!! What the fuck are you talking about JD? I DON'T FUCKIN’ GET IT! 

And now—weird? They're calling us WEIRD!"

"But Mr. President, that means I got them to soften up! Weird is OK. It’s better than Bigots, Racists, Supremecists…"

[Trump flies into a rage.]

"You don’t get this, do you JD? What we want IS Crazy… we want Racist… we want Sexist! The MAGA crowd knows how to read these codes... especially when they come from the coastal elites. 

What we don’t want is… WEIRD! Weird’s worse than fuckin’ STUPID… It’s like a billion times worse than calling your momma fat and ugly.

Honestly, I might have made a huge mistake with you here, JD! 

Bigly! You know... Bannon was pushing hard for Marco?

[Calming himself…]

Look JD, let’s all take a deep deep breath here... You’re just getting started. We have less than one hundred days.

From here on, you stay...ON POINT! Don’t go on Fox and say stupid cat shit! Stick to staples! The talking points…

The rapist illegals are POURING in!

While dumb Kamala worries about BATHROOMS for trans people, we worry about JOBS for the forgotten people. 

WE kill Iranian terrorists and military leaders. THEY go after defenseless babies!

Biden can’t even hold a pen anymore. He’s definitely not holding anything by himself in the bathroom. But don’t count on this corrupt White House to tell you that! 

Kamala’s signing ALL the checks. They’re paying healthcare and retirement for the illegals… granting them citizenship as fast as they can, to get their votes. The national debt will double before their term ends. 

And how about this one… 

Indian is the New Black! 

That’s a winner, right there!

Speaking of, you must have read about that crazy Indian wedding? This guy’s like Asia’s richest guy—let's say, the Trump of India! He personally invited me to the wedding and wanted to open up his penthouse for us, but I couldn't take up his lovely offer... Look! We will generate the largest crowds India has ever seen and I didn't think he'd be able to handle the security. 

Ivanka badly wanted to go…

This guy spent, like, half a billion on his son’s wedding... But lemme just say this: I’ve no idea how he made his money, but he doesn’t know the art of the deal. He paid Beyoncé ten million green ones to perform at the wedding! Does he even know she’s struggling to bring in her next gig??

Meanwhile... I get Hulk Hogan and Kid Rock at the Trump Convention. FOR FREE! They’re raising money for ME! This is how fuckin’ stupid these rich Indians are! 

JD, here’s how you can help. We need to go after the brown vote. The Indians are loaded! Jared tells me... even more than the Jews. We need their money AND their vote. 

And guess what? THEY HATE TAXES, even more than rich white Wall Street jocks! 

Go to the Valley and set up fund raisers! Dangle an Indian ambassadorship! A spot on the President's Science Council. I’m sure Musk and your buddy Thiel can get you in... in all the right places.

Coming to think of it, SCRATCH what I said before!

Let’s do saris. Your wife should be wearing a sari and we’ll let mom-in-law off the hook too. Have your in-laws pick some really expensive designer Indian clothes for Ivanka and Melania. Pick stuff that shows a bit of skin. 

No one would have ever ever looked better in Indian robes! 

Let's go get 'em, JD!"

A Visit from the Lord

Everyone now knows that the Almighty did come down over the weekend and visit our President. The meeting was short and impactful.

Knock! Knock!

Who's there?

God!

God who?

Goddammit! Just open the friggin' door!

[The President fumbles the latch for several minutes before letting in a very exasperated Almighty.]

Mr. President, you take five minutes to work the latch on the door. What the heck will you do with the red nuclear button, should the time come?  The Russians would already have leveled San Francisco... maybe even Chicago... while you're still searching for your dentures! On this job, you need to be fit and ready to shoot from the hip. And don't you dare count on ME!

Oh my Lord, I'm so sorry! I'm just having a bad day. It's a lingering cold from the long debate night, jet-lag, some partying [wink!], and now a bit of Covid... you know, that type of thing. On my good days, I zip around, just like my 67 Corvette. And please, feel free to just call me Joe.

Joe, you gotta go. Your time's up. It's over. I'll keep you on Earth for some more time, but you need to drop out of this race. Now!

But my Lord, can you... can you just give me another shot at this? Maybe I could help?

You're out, Joe! You're not a wartime President! The world is full of wars. Things may get rough with the moves I'm trying. There are reasons you must have no part in what might happen.

Lord, just tell me this... how can you keep Trump? He's a fuckin' disaster and besides... 

[The Almighty cuts him off, clearly irritated.]

Let's be honest here, Joe. I'm not too happy either—with his incessant lying, his porn flings, his megalomania, his immodesty, his freakin' hairstyle—the list goes on. He is anything, but an example... to anyone. 

But get this! This guy makes a lot many more people pray to Me that any President ever did. He's shaken up both sides. All Republicans now pray like Evangelicals... like there's no tomorrow. Hell! Even the godless Dems have got religion now! They are praying themselves hoarse... in unprecedented numbers. They want me to get him out! And they want your ass tickin'.

Trump breaks every Commandment... like, every day... but he wants to put up all TEN of 'em in the schools, in cafeterias, in hospitals, in state houses....prayer's coming back to the schools...Do you see what a great deal all this is... for Me?

I'm sorry and I am humbled, my Lord! I can't argue with all this.... but tell me this: What really happened at Butler, Pennsylvania last Saturday. Did YOU really save him?

OK, so you're going to hear this from Me... but just once. 

I wanted him to think more about Me and less about himself. So I let the shooter get in. I made the secret service guys a tad drowsy. But just when the kid was about to pull the trigger, I put a sharp itch in his left groin, enough to make him miss completely. But Trump had to turn his head at the last minute... into the path of the bullet. I was intending a miss, but it nicked his ear. Sometimes e'en I have to throw up my hands at this guy!

But let's get back to this... tomorrow is the Day. Make it happen!

OK my Lord! I will post on X first thing in the morning that I will stand down. But I need something from you, and here's the deal....

Joe, Joe, Joe!... what deal? Remember WHO you're talking with!

I'm really really sorry my Lord! Presidents tend to want to horse-trade everything. And like I said, it's been a rare bad day for me... but can you do me one last favor, please Almighty! Please!

Go on... [eyebrows turned up in irritation]

Lord, can you make sure that St. Peter double-bolts that gate down when Trump comes a-knocking? Can you also promise me that You will personally come out and kick his sorry ass down to Hell?

[There was no answer. The President stared at the atrium by the door but all he could see was a tiny wisp of smoke where the Lord had been. A type-written letter to his Fellow Americans, floated down to the floor, swaying about like a feather in a dying breeze. The Lord does work in mysterious ways.]