By DeathJuice Editorial | Retro-Futurist Dispatch | 1789 meets 2025
đź‘‘ The Land of the Crowned and the Hungry
Somewhere between the golden glow of power and the flickering fluorescent of a closed government office, the kingdom sleeps.
Millions of Americans face empty cupboards, missed paychecks, and the bitter comedy of “budget negotiations” while the self-appointed royals debate over dessert.
If the government reopened today, the starving might get fed.
But not healed.
Because “affordable medical care” remains the punchline to a joke that no one’s laughing at.
Affordable to who?
That remains another topic or, more precisely, another lie.
🍰 Should They Eat Cake?
Our queen, who once looked like she could have been a Miss Universe 1999 judge, now rules in pearls and faux fur. Her Communist red baseball crown reads: “Should They Eat Cake?”
Beside her stands the King Of Felons a man whose hue is said to recall a well done citrus fruit, crowned in Chinese velvet in the color of communism with the bold lettering: “Make America Starve Again.”
Their subjects? You. Me. The unpaid. The uninsured. The unseen.
And as the airports close, the king’s great wall that monument to imagined threats, becomes a cruel twist of irony. It no longer keeps anyone out.
It keeps us in.
🚫 The Wall Isn’t About Safety Anymore
It’s a gilded cage.
A patriotic panic room where the elite sip cocktails and mutter about “the optics.”
Flights are grounded. Workers furloughed. Farmers unpaid.
But the private jets still hum like lullabies over the quiet streets.
The wall stands tall, not as protection, but as punctuation a full stop in the story of progress.
🍅 The Ketchup Club
But don’t despair!
While the poor ration canned beans, the rich are still finding new hobbies.
In private clubs lit like Martian ballrooms, the privileged let your children lick ketchup from their ears. But only if they are naked.
It’s a new kind of communion, the body and blood of capitalism itself.
It’s grotesque. It’s decadent. It’s America, baby.
Where the taste of excess covers the smell of hunger.
💉 The Price of “Affordable”
Meanwhile, those on the outside scroll through medical portals and debt collectors’ texts.
The “Affordable Care” page loads slowly, but not as slowly as the realization that “affordable” never meant you.
If you can’t pay the premium, pray.
If you can’t see a doctor, don’t cough in public.
If you can’t feed your kid, tell them it’s a national fast.
How long before their Churches have call for daily fasting?
The king calls it “resilience.”
The queen calls it “patriotism.”
We call it malice dressed as management.
Or simply the retribution you voted for.
🏛️ The Royal We
Here’s the final joke:
The shutdown isn’t a pause.
It’s the plan.
The suffering isn’t collateral, it’s currency.
Every delay, every closure, every excuse is a dividend paid to the powerful for your endurance.
Because when the government shuts down, the system doesn’t stop.
It just decides who counts.
đź”» The DeathJuice Takeaway
The government could reopen today.
The starving could eat.
The sick could heal.
The people could move.
But the caps stay on, the walls stay high, and the message stays the same:
“Make America Starve Again.”
Because in this royal shutdown, the crown’s made of his communist financiers fabric and the kingdom’s built on fumes