⛷️“Winter Olympics" Edition
And more Bad Bunny
The Winter Olympics were supposed to be a wholesome international celebration of ice, snow, and extremely tight ski suits. Instead, Team USA discovered that you can, in fact, take politics with you in your carry-on.
American athletes arrived in Italy hoping to focus on triple axels and downhill splits. Instead, they were greeted with boos for Vice President JD Vance during the opening ceremony and protest banners reading “Milan despises you.”
One skier dared to express “mixed emotions” about representing the United States—basically saying, “I love my country, but not everything happening right now.” This mild, human sentiment prompted President Trump to label him “a real Loser” and suggest he shouldn’t have made the team.
Meanwhile, American federations hastily renamed their hospitality hub from “Ice House” to “Winter House” after ICE agents joining the security team sparked outrage. In 2026, apparently even frozen water is politically polarizing.
Athletes have mostly tried to stick to the classic Olympic script: We’re here for sport, unity, Nelson Mandela quotes, and maybe a tasteful comment about inclusivity. No one from Team USA has publicly endorsed administration policies. Shocking. Instead, they’ve stuck to dangerously radical ideas like kindness and diversity.
Italian spectators, for their part, seem capable of distinguishing between athletes and government officials—though they’re understandably not thrilled about the latter. Some American fans even left their flag gear at home, unsure whether to cheer or apologize. Others went full face-paint patriotism, because if you’re going to be booed, you might as well accessorize.
The International Olympic Committee insists the Games are above politics. History, of course, suggests otherwise. Turns out when your country’s leadership spends a year picking fights with allies and staging immigration crackdowns, it tends to follow you to the ski slopes.
So yes, the Olympics are still about sport. But when a freestyle skier becomes a Truth Social punching bag and a hospitality lounge needs a rebrand to avoid looking like a federal agency, it’s safe to say the podium isn’t the only thing under pressure.
Clay Bennett - Tribune Content Agency
Bill Bramhall - Tribune Content Agency
Clay Jones - Substack and Claytoonz
Matt Wuerker - Andrews McMeel
Rob Rogers - Tinyview Comics and Andrews McMeel
Michael de Adder - cagle.com/de-adder
Matt Davies - Andrews McMeel
Nick Anderson - Substack and Tribune Content Agency
Dave Whamond - cagle.com/whamond
After one year of Trump 2.0, we finally have clarity about the administration’s economic theory: trickle-down, but make it torrential—for billionaires.
According to Americans for Tax Fairness, the nation’s billionaire class enjoyed a 22% wealth boost in 2025, swelling their collective fortunes to a breezy $8.2 trillion. Thirty MAGA-aligned billionaire families who dropped $1.4 billion on the 2024 election were apparently not making a donation. They were making a down payment. Their return: a reported $408 billion jump in wealth. Not bad for a year’s work in “public service.”
Meanwhile, working families got the authentic populist experience: higher tariffs driving up prices, expiring health subsidies, and historic cuts to Medicaid and food assistance. It’s a “Golden Age” for billionaires; you lose your health insurance while Jeff Bezos picks out a third yacht.
The GOP’s signature legislative achievement? Extending massive tax breaks for the ultra-wealthy—delivering about $1 trillion to the top 1%—while trimming SNAP and Medicaid like they were unnecessary streaming subscriptions. Healthcare premiums rose, benefits shrank, and the deficit ballooned. But look on the bright side: estate tax repeal might soon ensure generational wealth remains… generational.
Trump promised lower prices. He delivered higher grocery bills. He promised to fight for forgotten Americans. He remembered the billionaires immediately.
Year one’s scoreboard is simple: Wall Street champagne showers, Main Street clearance sale. If this is economic populism, it comes with a yacht club membership and you’re not invited.








“After one year of Trump 2.0, we finally have clarity about the administration’s economic theory: trickle-down, but make it torrential—for billionaires.” Personally, I’m all for renaming it “gush-up economics.”
I’ve just returned home from a vacation in South America, for which the only item I packed that might betray me as a Yanqui was a baseball cap with a rainbow Milwaukee Brewers logo. I brought along a sweatshirt celebrating my Norwegian roots and another purchased at the Montreal airport a couple years ago as my clever disguise.