Presidents' Day 2025

The great American experiment is on life support, and it’s Presidents’ Day—a holiday that once celebrated Washington’s stoic leadership and Lincoln’s resolve but now feels more like a state-sponsored head injury. A day when we are supposed to reflect on the “great men” who have led this nation, but in 2025, that reflection comes with the unmistakable stench of sulfur and hairspray.

For our international readers, Presidents’ Day is a uniquely American ritual, a long weekend where people pretend to care about history while mostly using the time to buy discounted mattresses. Officially, it’s a holiday to honor George Washington (our first president, who wisely refused to become king) and Abraham Lincoln (who saved the country from eating itself alive during the Civil War). Over time, it evolved into a catch-all celebration of all U.S. presidents—yes, even the corrupt, the incompetent, and the outright criminal.

It’s a day that once carried some dignity but has now been reduced to a nationwide clearance sale. Need a new fridge? A couch? A used car? You’re in luck—because nothing screams democratic values like 20% off at Best Buy. Meanwhile, schoolchildren are forced to endure sanitized history lessons about how every president, even the worst ones, somehow “shaped America.” No mention, of course, of the ones who shaped it by selling it off to the highest bidder.

And that brings us to the present—where America has once again elected a man who doesn’t just despise democracy but actively treats it like a used tissue.

The Nightmare in the White House

Donald Trump, the tangerine Mussolini, the fast-food Caligula, the man whose entire existence is proof that karma is just an empty concept people invented to feel better about suffering. He sits in the White House once again, barking orders between bites of a Quarter Pounder, clutching a Diet Coke like it's the nuclear football, and signing executive orders with a Sharpie like a lunatic child pretending to run a country.

But today is Presidents’ Day, so let’s give the man his due.

What has he done? Well, for starters, he’s filled his Cabinet with a cast of characters that make Nixon’s cronies look like the Algonquin Round Table. Steve Bannon has emerged from whatever crypt he was hiding in, reeking of bourbon and printer ink, to helm some hideous new domestic policy initiative—likely something involving camps, walls, or a national breeding program to make sure future Americans have the "right" look.

The Supreme Court? Packed. The Justice Department? A banana republic joke. The economy? Still functioning, but only because America has learned to run on fumes and denial. The rich are getting richer, the poor are getting angrier, and the middle class is an endangered species that Congress observes from behind the glass like a dying polar bear.

And the people? Ah, the people. Some of them are still under the delusion that “it can’t be that bad.” That’s how it always starts. Then come the firings, the loyalty oaths, the gutting of the few remaining checks and balances. The warnings are always there, but most Americans are too busy doom-scrolling and debating the ethics of eating at Chick-fil-A to notice the slow, steady creep of authoritarianism.

A Call to Arms (Metaphorically)

But here’s the thing: we still have a choice.

Presidents’ Day is as good a time as any to remember that democracy isn’t a spectator sport. It’s a bloodsport, a never-ending fight against the grifters, the con men, and the megalomaniacs who believe power is a birthright instead of a responsibility. If history has taught us anything, it’s that the only thing worse than a tyrant is a population too numb, too lazy, or too distracted to stop him.

We have the tools. Protest. Organize. Vote. Sabotage the machine when necessary. Refuse to accept a world where a man who thinks wind turbines cause cancer gets to decide the future of your children. History isn’t written by the cowards who sit idly by and wait for someone else to fix the mess. It’s written by those who stand up, fight, and, if necessary, throw a few well-placed bricks into the gears of oppression.

So enjoy your day off, if you get one. Grill a steak, drink a beer, pretend America isn’t spiraling into the abyss. But remember: the clock is ticking, and the time for complacency is over. The battle for the soul of this country isn’t theoretical anymore—it’s happening right now.