I was on FaceTime with a close friend of mine since childhood, while she had six of her girlfriends over. They live in NYC and are “corporate girlies” in their late 20s. They’re all college graduates, very pretty, normal, dress well, go to Pilates, enjoy their $10 matcha everyday. They’re MAHA (without knowing it).
They were asking me about my social media and all claim to “not be political” but I know every single one of the votes left or doesn’t vote at all.
One of them said my social media is crazy and I have some insane takes. I asked for an example so maybe I could help expand on how I reached whatever conclusion I did. There was no example provided.
I started asking about what they knew about our political climate. I started basic and asked if any of them know who our VP is. NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM COULD NAME OUR VICE PRESIDENT!!!!!
I asked more questions, and was equally disappointed in their lack of knowledge. They said they just don’t like getting involved in politics. Yet they all voted for Kamala.
They don’t know how laws get passed, they don’t know the branches of government, they don’t know why we’re at war with Iran, they just think it’s “unnecessary”, I could go on.
We have a major education crisis in our country.
Billie Eilish, with her whispered vocals and manufactured melancholy, steps onto the Grammy stage...a cathedral of corporate excess built on the very capitalist machinery she pretends to disdain...and delivers her smug little poison pill: "No one is illegal on stolen land."
Let’s dissect this vapid, historically illiterate slogan that she parrots like a trust-fund radical who’s never read a book without pictures.
First, the phrase itself is a rhetorical sleight-of-hand designed to shut down debate by invoking guilt.
It’s not an argument; it’s emotional blackmail.
It collapses 500 years of complex history into a bumper-sticker accusation that erases every distinction between conquest, treaty, purchase, settlement, war, and modern nation-state governance.
The land was indeed taken...through violence, betrayal, disease, and legal fictions...from peoples who themselves displaced prior inhabitants in endless cycles of migration and conflict stretching back to the Bering land bridge.
Human history is a ledger of conquest; America’s chapter is neither uniquely evil nor uniquely virtuous.
But Eilish doesn’t want complexity.
She wants the dopamine hit of moral superiority.
This is classic virtue signaling fused with narcissistic pseudo-profoundity.
She’s twenty-four, homeschooled in a Los Angeles bubble, surrounded by handlers who curate her “rebel” image while she rakes in hundreds of millions from the same system she postures against.
The statement isn’t courage; it’s the safest possible radical chic.
Say something about open borders to a room full of wealthy coastal elites who live in gated communities and send their kids to private schools far from the consequences of the policies they champion?
Motherfucking groundbreaking.
And the venomous hypocrisy: she performs on a stage in a city built on land taken from the Tongva, wears clothes manufactured in sweatshops, streams her music on servers powered by strip-mined lithium, and flies private while lecturing the plebs about morality.
But sure, Billie, tell the working-class families dealing with fentanyl deaths and strained social services that borders are imaginary because Manifest Destiny.
She isn’t uneducated in the formal sense...she’s deliberately, willfully ignorant, choosing slogans over substance because confronting actual history would require acknowledging that no nation on Earth has clean hands, and that modern immigration policy isn’t equivalent to the Trail of Tears.
It’s a lazy, poisonous conflation meant to weaponize white guilt while absolving her of any intellectual responsibility.
Fuck Billie Eilish and her sanctimonious, half-baked activism.
She’s not profound; she’s a spoiled child playing dress-up in revolutionary cosplay, spitting on the graves of people who built this country while cashing checks written by the empire she claims to despise.
Grow the fuck up, or shut the fuck up.
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