Greg Olear's "Cast him out: No more magamazement" is not a standard political critique; it is a frenetic, Shakespearean exorcism that treats the current executive branch not as a government, but as a malignancy held together by a collective hallucination. While most analysis focuses on policy specifics or polling numbers, Olear argues that the administration's survival depends entirely on a "dark orange magic" that must be broken by the sheer, loud articulation of objective reality. He posits that the only way to dismantle the current regime is to stop treating its actions as political disagreements and start naming them for what they are: a criminal enterprise masquerading as a presidency.
The Architecture of the Spell
Olear frames the administration's hold on power as a form of mass delusion, a "folie du pays" where the public is bound by a bluff. He writes, "The MAGA Mage bewitches you: the stuff Of nightmare, when a people, bound by bluff, Doth take him at his word." This metaphorical framing, drawing heavily on The Tempest, suggests that the electorate is not merely misinformed but actively enchanted, a concept that echoes the deep-dive analysis in Folie à deux regarding how shared delusions can become institutionalized reality. The author's choice to use poetic, almost archaic language serves to heighten the sense of absurdity surrounding the current leadership.
The core of Olear's argument rests on the assertion that the executive branch has abandoned governance entirely in favor of a chaotic, self-serving agenda. He states, "He has no coherent policies. He has no coherent agenda. He has no plan... It is gobbledygook." Olear contends that the administration's economic theories are nonsensical, pointing to the dismantling of government divisions that track employment data as a deliberate attempt to hide the reality of a looming recession. This framing is effective because it strips away the veneer of political strategy, presenting the administration's actions as the erratic behavior of a failing operator rather than a calculated political move.
Critics might argue that labeling all economic dissent as "gobbledygook" ignores the genuine ideological debate over tariffs and tax cuts, even if the author believes those policies are flawed. However, Olear's point is less about the economics and more about the lack of internal logic, suggesting a leadership that is improvising in a way that endangers the nation's stability.
He lies. He lies as he breathes. He lies just to lie, to push the boundary of truth.
The Criminal Enterprise
Moving beyond policy, Olear shifts to a relentless cataloging of legal and ethical disqualifications, treating the presidency as a front for organized crime. He writes, "Doing business with criminals makes him a criminal. Being a convicted felon also makes him a criminal—and he was found guilty on all 34 counts." The author does not shy away from the gravity of these charges, linking the administration's personal history of non-payment and fraud to its current governance style. He notes that the executive branch has been used to exploit the presidency for hundreds of millions of dollars, citing crypto scams and foreign extortions.
The piece becomes particularly stark when addressing the administration's relationship with the rule of law. Olear describes the appointment of loyalists over meritocrats as a systematic purge: "He put a wrestling lady in charge of our education system... He put a drunken, racist, sexually abusive TV personality in charge of our military." These appointments, he argues, are not merely poor choices but active attempts to dismantle the institutions they lead. This connects to the historical context of Active measures, where the infiltration of institutions is a primary tactic of destabilization. The author suggests that the current administration is not just governing poorly but is actively engaged in a hostile takeover of the state.
He is not just a failed president but a failed human being. This is disqualifying. We must demand his resignation.
The Human Cost of Loyalty
Perhaps the most disturbing section of Olear's commentary focuses on the human consequences of the administration's loyalty tests. He details the existence of a "secret state police" that kidnaps residents, beats them, and sends them to foreign prisons, noting that "some never make it home again." The author does not mince words about the brutality, describing the force as "mean and fat and poorly trained" and led by someone who "enjoys shooting puppies." This vivid, albeit hyperbolic, imagery is designed to shock the reader out of complacency.
Olear also highlights the administration's indifference to human suffering, citing the illegal refusal to fund food support programs for needy families during a government shutdown. He writes, "He appealed the decision" to fund these programs even after a judge ordered compliance. This section underscores the author's central thesis: that the administration's actions are driven by a complete lack of moral compass, where the well-being of citizens is secondary to the leader's whims. The argument here is that the administration's loyalty to the leader has superseded its duty to the people, resulting in tangible harm.
Critics might suggest that the description of the "secret state police" lacks specific attribution to a named agency, which could weaken the factual weight of the claim. Yet, Olear's intent is to capture the feeling of a police state emerging, a sentiment that resonates with the broader fear of unchecked executive power.
We—we the people—must demand his resignation. We must. We.
Bottom Line
Greg Olear's piece is a powerful, if polarizing, call to action that refuses to treat the current administration as a legitimate political entity. Its greatest strength lies in its refusal to normalize the abnormal, framing the executive branch's actions as a criminal conspiracy rather than a political disagreement. However, its reliance on hyperbolic language and unverified specifics regarding a "secret state police" may alienate readers seeking a more measured analysis. The reader should watch for whether this rhetorical strategy of total delegitimization can actually mobilize the "snap out of it" moment Olear demands, or if it merely reinforces the existing divides it seeks to bridge.