On January 3, 2026, while most of the world was still hungover from New Year's, the United States military bombed Caracas, extracted President Nicolás Maduro in handcuffs, and flew him to New York to face narco‑terrorism charges. Five days later, the White House announced it would control Venezuelan oil sales "indefinitely" and decide how the proceeds get spent. Call it what it is: regime change as a subscription service.
The Daily Mail reported that Donald Trump "really" could be on his way back to the White House. The former U.S. President allegedly amassed a $115million election war chest. This should be enough money to pave his way back to Presidency with the new slogan "Save America." An incredible 82 percent of Republicans will back him if he decides to run again in 2024. Trump has built a cult around him. He has believers and fans more than voters. In any way, Trump is the king-maker if he decides not to run for the Presidency himself.
At 11:30 a.m., my stomach is loudly protesting my 16‑hour fast, while Instagram serves me a fourth ad for "fasting‑support" electrolyte powder that costs more per gram than cocaine. My phone wants me to track my ketone levels, my "fasting window," and my "metabolic age" on three different apps. Fasting is less about food than about refusing to let the attention economy feed you—literally and algorithmically.