Donald Trump and J.D. Vance aren’t leaders—they’re sadists in suits, perverts of power whose only governing principle is humiliation. They don’t want a nation. They want a pit fight, a national dog show where the winners get a leash and the losers get shot. And they’ve already built the arena: Downtown Miami, where human beings are forced to kneel like mutts, shackled and broken, their faces shoved to the floor to eat like strays feasting on their own dead.
Let’s rewind the tape. September 2024: Trump and Vance climb onto the national stage and piss on it, telling America that Haitian immigrants in Ohio were eating cats and dogs. No proof. No video. No animal control raids uncovering piles of bones—just a rotting lie lifted from the same white supremacist playbook that accused Black men of cannibalism and brown men of bestiality. A lie designed to dehumanize, to turn your neighbor into a beast, your coworker into a predator, your fellow citizen into a fucking monster.
They didn’t just repeat it. They bathed in it. Vance practically begged his followers to keep the cat-eating memes coming, like some basement-dwelling Reddit troll with a Senate badge. Trump, bloated with his own cruelty, declared on a debate stage that the Haitians were eating “the dogs, the cats, the pets”—spitting the words like he was flinging slop to the pigs he sees in every crowd that still cheers for him.
But this wasn’t just propaganda. It was prophecy. Because the moment they returned to power, the cages filled again. The same hands that signed the orders are the ones that yanked human beings to their knees in a Downtown Miami ICE facility, shackled their wrists behind their backs, and smashed their faces to the concrete. No hands. No dignity. Just faces inches from styrofoam trays—no silverware, no plates worthy of the name, just the slop you give to creatures you want to forget were ever human.
This is no accident. This is no bureaucratic error. This is a continuum. First, you call them animals. Then you make them eat like animals. Then you wait—wait for the country to forget they were ever anything else. That is the Trump-Vance formula: defame, degrade, dehumanize. Repeat.
When one man started coughing blood, the others begged for help. The guards responded the way Trump and Vance have taught them to respond to brown pain: with violence. A broken finger for compassion. A punishment for daring to care. The message is clear: in the kennel of America, empathy is treason.
And don’t kid yourself. This isn’t just about immigrants. This is a test run. A wet rehearsal for authoritarianism. They start with the ones you’ve been trained to ignore, to dismiss, to fear. But the boot they’re oiling on immigrant spines today? That boot is meant for your throat tomorrow. Because there’s always another enemy to invent, another neighbor to demonize, another human to cage and starve.
Trump and Vance aren’t policy makers. They’re pimps of pain, slinging human suffering like currency. They are what happens when cowardice mates with cruelty: swaggering bullies too weak to build, so they burn instead. They want to drag this country back to a time when some men owned the land and others just fertilized it with their bones.
So let’s be clear: Trump and Vance don’t deserve civility. They deserve to be politically, morally, and historically gutted—stripped of every pretense of humanity they’ve denied to others. Not out of vengeance, but out of survival. Because if we don’t destroy their vision of America, their kennel becomes our country, and the only thing on the menu will be us.
If this makes your blood boil, good. That’s the point. Help us keep the spotlight on the monsters building this kennel state—because exposing them is the first step to tearing it down. Support independent journalism with teeth.
This post has been syndicated from Closer to the Edge, where it was published under this address.