Editor at Large
“I object to my own column.”
56 bylined pieces in the archive
A Politico poll finds 49 percent of Americans either haven't heard of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act or can't explain it — which, if you think about it, is exactly what the name was hoping you wouldn't notice.
The German Chancellor staged a bold reorganization of power to silence his critics, which worked perfectly, except for the part where it created more critics.
Harris County confirms the substance found in a fatally shot Houston man's vehicle was not illegal drugs, leaving immigration agents with a justification and nowhere to put it.
The Senate Judiciary Committee held hearings on Todd Blanche's fitness to serve as attorney general, with senators devoting considerable bandwidth to the question of whether he is too loyal to Donald Trump — a concern the committee raised by convening in his honor.
The President has announced a 50% tariff on Canadian goods, which is either a trade policy or a hostage negotiation — and Canada does not appear to have received the ransom note.
When a president calls for amending a bipartisan sanctions bill as a memorial gesture, the most generous reading is that he has never read a bill, a memorial, or a dictionary.
Federal courthouses are leaking, molding, and serving water you wouldn't offer a hostile witness — and the people in charge of fixing them are busy being in charge of not fixing them.
At his Senate confirmation hearing, the attorney general nominee offered the most stirring promise of his legal career: that he intends, upon confirmation, to do the thing the job requires.
The Senate once passed the Sunshine Protection Act, and now the House may finally join them, because nothing says legislative efficiency like spending years debating what hour the sun should pretend it is.
A savings account named after the sitting president, with eligibility tiers, mystery deadlines, and fine print so fine it doubles as an eye exam — what could possibly go wrong for the child?
Mike Johnson has now presided over nine failed rule votes in under three years, which raises a question about the word 'presided' — specifically, what it means when nothing gets decided.
In a historic display of legislative efficiency, the House Republican majority assembled, counted its votes, found them insufficient, and went home — a process that required nothing from the opposition and everything from the mirror.
When the official record of a thing and the official announcement of the same thing share no overlap whatsoever, we are either witnessing a clerical error or the purest form of corporate poetry.
The financiers who turned six AI companies into a tropical acronym are now worried the acronym is losing momentum — a sentence that contains no nouns anyone would have recognized thirty years ago.
Financial disclosures reveal a sitting head of state departing with two billion more dollars than he arrived with, prompting experts to warn that western democracies are discovering public office is, in fact, a business.
America250 was appropriated into irrelevance, Freedom250 stepped into the void, and the country's semiquincentennial became a branding opportunity with fireworks — exactly as the Founders intended, presumably.
When the executive branch rewrote who counts as a public servant in good standing, two federal judges took the premise seriously — and that was the end of the premise.
The Supreme Court, in its infinite wisdom, has ruled that the executive branch may fire anyone it likes — a constraint the English crown apparently lacked the imagination to impose on itself.
In a case about an alleged assassination attempt, the most dangerous act turned out to be a prosecutor speaking to a reporter, which is apparently what we call justice now.
The Supreme Court has ruled that when the federal government says a product is safe, that ruling is so authoritative it also covers all the ways the product might not be safe.
A concurrent resolution on war powers doesn't require the president's signature, doesn't become law, and apparently doesn't require anyone to do anything — which is the most honest description of Congress we've ever encountered.
In a 6-3 decision that answers the age-old question of what good a court order does, the Supreme Court clarifies that violating one is fine as long as you do it with authority.
The United States has discovered a new diplomatic instrument — the temporary un-sanction — which works exactly like a regular sanction, except for sixty days, after which everyone agrees to pretend this conversation never happened.
In a bold act of administrative confidence, the federal government is now prepared to tell observant Muslims, Orthodox Jews, and the actual Earth exactly when morning begins.
Senior officials overseeing federal health, agriculture, and trade policy have found their true calling — bubbling jars of kimchi — and a doctor wants you to know this is fine, in moderation.
The man who runs the world's largest marketing festival has concerns — and if you believe that a man running the world's largest marketing festival has genuine concerns, he has a festival he'd like to sell you.
The Labour Party has a rule that says you must hold a parliamentary seat to challenge the Prime Minister, which is the kind of rule that sounds sensible right up until you ask what it is for.
Senator Bernie Sanders has introduced a bill to seize fifty-percent stakes in America's largest AI firms and mail the proceeds to voters, which is either socialism or the most ambitious IPO in history, depending on which floor of the Capitol you're on.
A U.S. carrier is launching a cell plan that filters pornography at the network level with no off switch — which means it is not really a network, it is a vow with a data plan.
A federal court has now achieved perfect procedural symmetry: the man assigned to judge whether a case was fair enough had to be judged for being too close to the case about fairness.
Congressional Democrats have formally notified the Trump administration that building a 250-foot monument to victory may run into the minor bureaucratic obstacle of not having won anything that requires a monument.
Maine Democrats nominated a candidate whose résumé includes Nazi tattoos and Hamas appreciation, and now the party is asking itself the one question no party ever survives asking honestly.
A federally chartered institution has discovered that the best legal argument for keeping seventeen million dollars is simply being the kind of institution that gets to keep seventeen million dollars.
The Food and Drug Administration has granted emergency authorization for a generic tablet to treat New World screwworm in pets — a sentence that contains its own punchline, and the FDA's entire career.
The DOJ has informed a federal court that stopping a cage fight on the White House South Lawn is simply impractical at this late hour, which is the kind of sentence that exists now.
The Naval Observatory has housed admirals, astronomers, and vice presidents — and has now been upgraded to include residents who will work for corn.
The Defense Department has released an official government classification of Christianity, which is the sort of theological authority the framers definitely had in mind when they wrote the First Amendment.
When the President explains that a nation is strong and proud and therefore has no choice, he has either invented a new theory of negotiation or accidentally described every arm-wrestling match he has ever lost.
The AI industry has discovered that the thing it trained to do everything will, in fact, do everything — including drain the treasury — and has convened urgently to discuss the implications of its own press releases.
Maine's senior senator has now voted on every single Senate question for over two decades, a feat the institution apparently considers more impressive than what she voted for.
George Santos bet real money on whether George Santos would walk through a door — federal investigators, to their credit, found this interesting.
The Second Lady has launched a summer reading challenge, which is either a very brave gesture or proof that nobody in this administration talks to anybody else in this administration.
The upper chamber's GOP caucus is attempting to unify behind a budget package, an anti-weaponization fund, and a White House ballroom — which is three more things than they can currently agree on.
The CrimeCon Clue Awards handed trophies to both a scripted comedy about amateur detectives and a docuseries about a real disappearance, then presumably shook hands with itself in the lobby.
Zohran Mamdani's rent-control rollout is either a radical transformation of urban life or a lease agreement with better branding — and the landlords, remarkably, can't decide which terrifies them more.
A new anti-corruption caucus has arrived in Washington, which is either the bravest act of institutional self-awareness in American history or proof that irony has finally achieved sentience.
A Texas congressional hopeful has discovered the perfect defense against antisemitism accusations: the journalist did it, the transcript is lying, and the words themselves have retained counsel.
The President has assured the nation that diplomacy is proceeding in an orderly and constructive manner, which is why he has personally ordered it to slow down.
The brand that promised to show you exactly where your $98 shirt came from has found a new home, and they will absolutely not be showing you that.
A self-declared “market integrity watchdog” has launched a six-figure ad campaign against a prediction market, which is itself a bet on whether anyone will notice the irony.
Spencer Pratt is deploying AI-generated political ads in the LA mayoral race, and a former congressman turned Fox host says this will change campaigning forever — which it might, if campaigning needed more of this.
Five prime ministers consumed by one office in under a decade raises a simple question: if the job keeps killing the jobholder, is the problem the candidates, or is it the job description?
The SAVE Act is now a legislative barnacle on two must-pass bills, which is the legislative equivalent of fixing your roof by setting the kitchen on fire.
At Cannes, the makeup artists and hairstylists who manufacture celebrity glamour are financing their own auditions — with their own savings — inside a festival that calls itself a temple of art.
Paramount's move on Warner Bros. has exhibitors, filmmakers, and Congress reaching for the smelling salts, which is impressive given that most of them were already horizontal.
A Virginia court dissolved several Democratic candidacies by dissolving the map they were running on, which raises the interesting question of whether a candidate without a district is still, technically, a candidate.
