Welcome to the latest episode of the American Death Spiral, a variety show where the plot is recycled, the actors are geriatric, and the audience is too lobotomized by partisan rage to notice they’re being robbed. This week, we are treated to a double feature of institutional theater that perfectly illustrates the terminal rot of the Republic. In one ring, we have the Supreme Court—that gathering of robed gentry who pretend to interpret ancient scrolls while actually checking their real estate portfolios—debating whether Donald Trump can treat the Federal Reserve like a failing Atlantic City casino. In the other, we have House Republicans attempting to exhume the political corpses of the Clintons for a ritualistic flogging over the Epstein files. It is a masterclass in the art of the grift, a symphony of performative indignation designed to ensure that nothing of actual substance ever occurs.

Let’s begin with the Fed. Donald Trump, a man whose understanding of economics begins and ends with slapping his name on buildings in gold leaf, wants to fire Lisa Cook. Why? Because the Fed’s 'independence' is a personal insult to his ego. He views the Federal Reserve not as a stabilizing economic force, but as a glitch in the matrix that prevents him from manually lowering interest rates to zero whenever he needs a domestic distraction. Enter the Supreme Court. Specifically, Brett Kavanaugh, the patron saint of beer and judicial temperament, who is suddenly concerned that firing Cook would 'weaken, if not shatter' the Fed’s independence. It is truly touching to see Kavanaugh, a man whose very seat is the result of the most partisan, bone-crunching power play in modern memory, suddenly find religion regarding the sanctity of institutions.

The 'independence' of the Federal Reserve has always been a polite fiction—a way for the technocratic elite to manage the economy without the unwashed masses getting their dirty fingerprints on the levers of capital. Trump’s desire to shatter this fiction isn’t an act of populism; it’s an act of narcissistic vandalism. Conversely, the Court’s desire to protect it isn’t an act of constitutional stewardship; it’s an act of class preservation. They aren't protecting the economy; they are protecting the illusion that there is a steady, non-partisan hand at the wheel. If the Fed becomes just another wing of the Executive branch, the public might realize that the entire government is just three lobbyists in a trench coat. The justices are terrified that if the mask slips, the people will see that the building is empty.

While the Court pretends to care about the future of the economy, House Republicans are busy relitigating the past. They are pushing to hold Bill and Hillary Clinton in contempt of Congress over the Epstein investigation. Contempt! As if anyone in this country has felt anything but contempt for the political class since the Reagan administration. The GOP claims they’ve worked with the Clintons for five months and that 'time’s up.' This is the kind of high-stakes drama usually reserved for the season finale of a failing reality show. The prospect of sending the Clintons to prison is the ultimate carrot dangled before a base that has been conditioned to believe that a single legal filing will finally cleanse the world of their enemies.

The Epstein saga is the modern-day equivalent of a medieval relic—something to be paraded around to prove the holiness of the inquisitors. Both sides have used it as a 'choose your own adventure' book of conspiracy theories, ignoring the reality that the rot goes far deeper than any two individuals. The Clintons, for their part, have mastered the art of being both perpetually guilty and perpetually untouchable. They are the bureaucratic gargoyles of the neoliberal era, and the GOP knows it. This contempt push isn't about justice; it's a fundraising email disguised as a subpoena. Even if they were held in contempt, the Department of Justice—an entity that moves with the glacial speed of a dying empire—would likely treat the referral with the same urgency as a request to update their printer drivers.

What we are witnessing is the final, twitching stage of a dying system. On one side, a frantic attempt to seize the last remaining levers of economic control by a man who treats the Constitution like a suggestion box; on the other, a desperate effort to distract from the impotence of the present by exhuming the scandals of the 1990s. Both sides are playing to a gallery of morons who still believe that any of this matters. Whether Lisa Cook keeps her seat or the Clintons are forced to sit through another deposition they’ll lie their way out of, the outcome is the same: the machine keeps grinding, the debt keeps growing, and the American public continues to mistake this choreographed wrestling for actual governance. It’s not a constitutional crisis; it’s a content cycle. The gentry are fighting over the scraps of a banquet that ended decades ago, and you’re expected to cheer for your favorite scavenger. I, for one, have run out of applause.