Trump could get a special prosecutor to do his dirty work. Pam won't release Epstein files, probably money people that Trump needs. Kash is working alone so he might as well downsize the FBI, firing the resistance.
Emperor Napoleon was imprisoned on an island. https://sfbaytimes.com/prisoner-00045-transported-to-alcatraz/
Indeed it is. But pardon me Tuxan, if i had to choose, i rather choose this (i guess, you would as well) Tried to crop it properly (to make the black corners equally fitting), but failed. Must be getting old.
Speaking of the King's unvetted Sunday whimseys. I was just chatting with a producer who has decades more experience than I do in film, and we can't figure out how you tariff movies as they are digital imports? This opens up all social media platforms and streaming services potentially to serious problems. Music, games, TikToks, YouTube videos, or even monetized viral memes with foreign origin... This is the slipperiest of slopes for all digital services, almost... as if he just announced it without checking with anybody? True to form mad eh? He could impose an exhibitor-side tax on tickets sold for foreign films. It might make foreign films more prestigious, like importing rare wine.
I asked DeepSeek to to write a contemporary script for Blackadder with Mad King Donald in the oval office. This taking into account his recent Henry VIII turn where he decides to be both King AND Pope. Not bad, some jokes need polish but impressive. The "Ave me" line for example. BLACKADDER: THE GOLDEN COMBOVER Scene: The Royal Lair The Oval Office, rebranded for the new administration as the "Royal Lair," gleams in gilded excess. The walls are lined with golden-framed portraits of Donaldus Tremendous, showing him in various royal poses: one holding a scepter made from a golf club, another in full medieval armor. A small shrine of tiny golden statues of himself sits on the desk. President Donaldus Tremendous is lounging on a golden throne, a half-eaten hamberder in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of Diet Coke in the other. Blackadder stands, perfectly straight, holding a fake Nobel Prize. Baldrick is sweeping the floor with a QAnon flag, occasionally pausing to mutter to himself. --- BLACKADDER: “Baldrick, I have served men who thought they were God’s gift to the Earth—although, considering the amount of time I spent in the company of idiots, I rather suspect he had a hard time getting the packaging right. But never—never—have I had the misfortune of working for someone who genuinely believes the Papacy is a ‘loyalty rewards program.’” BALDRICK: “But Mr. B, he says the Pope’s hat would look amazing in gold! And it comes with free wine!” BLACKADDER: “Yes, Baldrick, and if he declares himself Pope, the only miracle he’ll perform is turning holy water into Diet Coke and forcing the poor to buy their salvation with gold-plated MAGA hats. I’m waiting for the tweet claiming that Jesus wanted to build a wall, but the Romans wouldn’t let him. Next week, he’ll probably declare himself the messiah and rename 'Calvary' to ‘Trump Tower Jerusalem.’” [Enter DONALDUS TREMENDOUS, arms wide, wearing a makeshift papal tiara made from a Burger King crown and tinfoil.] DONALDUS: “Gentlemen! Huge, massive news! I’ve just had a beautiful, perfect vision—sent to me by God Himself. Or maybe it was Elon Musk. Either way, I am now… the first of my name...Pope Donaldus the First, Supreme Pontifex MAGA Maximus!” BLACKADDER: (deadpan) “Astonishing, Your Holiness. And will you be moving the Vatican to a golf resort, or shall we just bless the next bunker as a holy site?” DONALDUS: “Even better! I’ve decided to rebrand Easter. Forget Easter eggs—now children will hunt for classified documents, and instead of ‘Hosanna,’ we’ll chant ‘Lock Her Up!’ It’s going to be YUGE.” BLACKADDER: “And what of confession, Your Holiness? Will we be offering counter-accusations instead?” DONALDUS: “Confession? That’s for losers! The only thing I confess is that I’m winning at being the best Pope ever. Believe me, the crowds love it.” (He exits, humming "Ave Me" to the tune of "We Are the Champions.") BALDRICK: (grinning) “Mr. B, I’ve got a cunning plan to make this work!” BLACKADDER: (wearily) “Let me guess. We forge a 2,000-year-old manuscript claiming that Jesus was a real estate mogul, declare Mar-a-Lago the New Holy Land, and sell indulgences in the form of NFTs?” BALDRICK: (beaming) “Even better! We say you wrote the Bible, but the Deep State edited out all the good bits about steak sales, windmill hatred, and how to make a perfect Twitter poll!” BLACKADDER: (staring into the abyss) “I used to think history was written by the victors. Now I realize it’s written by whoever can shout the loudest on Truth Social and… steal the attention span of an entire nation by tweeting at 2 a.m.” --- (The camera zooms in on Blackadder’s face, a perfect mask of weary sarcasm. Suddenly, a tweet notification DINGS ominously.) [The screen cuts to black.]