Today in Washington, Thomas Massie—libertarian cosplayer, part-time survivalist, and full-time chaos agent—did what he does best: weaponized a vote like a toddler with a Sharpie in a white living room.
The Kentucky congressman shocked precisely no one by voting yes on a procedural rule that would’ve moved Trump’s so-called “One Big Beautiful Bill” forward—a $3.4 trillion legislative casserole of tax cuts, border militarization, social safety net decapitations, and corporate sugar highs—only to dramatically switch his vote to no moments later. Because when you’re the only kid in class with a pocket Constitution and a superiority complex, timing is everything.
His reasoning? Allegedly a principled stand against government overreach and fiscal gluttony. Also allegedly: unicorns, integrity in Congress, and the idea that Massie doesn’t just enjoy being the human embodiment of a Libertarian subreddit thread from 2006.
He now claims to be leading a ragtag team of “about ten” Republican holdouts, a number which—like his self-awareness—remains unverified.
Meanwhile, the rest of the GOP spent the afternoon toggling between anger and performative confusion. Trump himself, in full Florida-Florentine glory, took a break from threatening Disney executives and demanding to be added to Mount Rushmore to warn that “MAGA is not happy.” Which is Trumpese for “expect passive-aggressive Truth Social posts and at least one Photoshopped picture of Massie wearing a Hillary shirt.”
As for the bill itself? It’s essentially a billionaire buffet with just enough “border security” garnish to distract from the fact that it guts everything from clean energy credits to Medicaid expansion. But don’t worry—ICE gets a raise. Because nothing says “economic stability” like throwing more money at people with tactical vests and less oversight than a Vegas magician.
Massie’s vote reversal wasn’t just a procedural footnote. It was performance art. The kind you’d expect from someone who lives off-grid, speaks in libertarian haikus, and thinks wearing a suit in D.C. counts as oppression. His switch allowed the bill to stall (for now), buying time for a few more headlines, and offering a reminder that bipartisanship is dead, but political cosplay is thriving.
Massie wants you to think he’s the last true patriot—wielding spreadsheets like swords, slaying deficit dragons in a Congress full of corrupt hobbits. In reality, he’s less Paul Revere and more Schrödinger’s Congressman: simultaneously for and against everything, depending on the hour, the camera angle, and whether Elon Musk likes the tweet.
In conclusion, Thomas Massie has once again proven that governance in 2025 is no longer about solutions, outcomes, or reality. It’s about the vibes. And today’s vibe was: “I voted yes, then no, and somehow made it everyone else’s fault.” God bless the United States Congress.