The List That Doesn’t Exist (But Also Totally Does)

First there was a list.

Then there wasn’t a list.

Then there was a different list — but it got buried somewhere between a blacked-out PDF and a judge’s vacation itinerary.

Now subpoenas fly like confetti at a coup, Ghislaine’s in prison-light™ with towel service, and Trump’s pretending he wandered into Epstein’s guest book on accident while looking for Diet Coke.

 

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Act I: Promise the Truth

 

 

Act II: Deny the Truth

 

 

Act III: Sell Popcorn While Arguing About the Truth

 

Welcome back to American theater — now in its 47th consecutive season.

 

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The “No List” List

 

They say it doesn’t exist.

But Congress keeps asking for it like a drunk uncle trying to win back his ex on Thanksgiving.

The DOJ’s redactions look like a Rorschach test made by a paper shredder.

Ask for transparency and they send you a blank PDF titled “transparency_final_final_revised2.pdf.”

 

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Maxwell’s Prison Upgrade™

 

Whistleblowers get solitary for using the wrong pen.

Meanwhile, Ghislaine Maxwell is chilling in a minimum-security Airbnb where the scariest thing she faces is cucumber water.

This isn’t punishment — it’s perks for the connected.

Concierge sentencing.

 

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Trump: The Denial Olympics

 

Trump’s gone from “I never met him,” to

“I met him once,” to

“I barely knew the guy,” to

“Fake news,” to

“Actually I was there to stop him.”

If you weren’t guilty, you wouldn’t need six different stories.

You’d just go back to golf.

 

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Did Epstein Kill Himself?

 

Sure.

And Area 51 is a juice bar.

And the moon landing was filmed at a WeWork in Orlando.

The cameras broke.

The guards fell asleep.

The autopsy reads like a Mad Lib.

The only thing hanging in that cell was our belief in due process.

 

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The Big Picture

 

There is a list.

It will never be released.

Because it doesn’t take down one side — it takes down the whole damn stage.

Left. Right. Billionaires. Bureaucrats. The guy on C-SPAN with sunglasses and zero blinking.

They’d rather bury the truth under a mountain of memes and indictments than admit what we already know:

The system protects itself. Always.

 

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So What Do We Do?

 

We don’t burn it down with matches.

We burn it with mockery.

With defiance.

And with the one thing they can’t redact:

Style.

 

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Enter: The Civil War 2 Hat

 

It’s not just a hat — it’s a headline.

A declaration.

A wearable middle finger to the fraud and theater of American decline.

 

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Wear it to a family BBQ. Watch the boomers whisper.

Wear it to the store. Count how many strangers salute.

Wear it because the draft is coming — and you might as well look good when history calls.

 

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🧢 [Shop the Civil War 2 Hat]

 

Because you weren’t born yesterday. And you’re not dying quietly.