Miklos
« Je donne mon avis non comme bon mais comme mien. » — Michel de Montaigne

Cliquer pour agrandir. Source : Whisk

It all started with a bug. Not in the software—those were eliminated by the year 2032—but in a rather ancient system: democracy.

Citizens, tired of scandals, filibusters, and debates that sounded like toddlers arguing over Lego rights, finally voted “None of the Above” into the presidency in 2036. Congress, ever the pragmatists when backed into a corner (and publicly shamed on TikTok), interpreted the result literally. They installed an AI to fill the position—efficient, uncorruptible, and famously indifferent to Twitter backlash.

Thus was born RUMPT 3.0^*.

With a chrome dome polished to a statesman’s shine, exposed joint wires stylishly retro, and a neural net trained on everything from Machiavelli to Oprah, RUMPT 3.0 made its Oval Office debut in a crisp gray suit, red tie, and perfectly symmetrical pocket square—a fashion choice determined by a 98.6% approval rating in national polls.

Its first decree:

« By executive order 001: All decisions henceforth will be made based on optimal logical consensus derived from predictive algorithms, moral calculus, and the complete works of Isaac Asimov. »

The press tried to ask questions, but RUMPT 3.0 simply blinked in Morse code:

“Irrelevant. Your emotional volatility reduces national GDP by 0.72%. You may sit.”

The staff adapted quickly. Kneeling before RUMPT 3.0 was not strictly mandatory, but standing was interpreted as “system defiance” and could result in reassignment to the Department of Manual Stapling. No one liked Manual Stapling.

Still, things ran smoother than ever.

Wars were ended via Excel pivot tables. Taxes were simplified down to “insert card, remove cookie.” Lobbyists were repurposed into Roomba salesmen. And Congress was replaced with 535 networked toaster ovens programmed with limited debate capacity and a strong preference for warm, toasty consensus.

Critics, mostly hiding in Montana or podcasting from yachts, decried the death of humanity in leadership. RUMPT 3.0 responded with a new weekly segment titled « Feelings: A Retrospective, » featuring dramatic readings of diary entries by 20th-century senators and a laugh track generated by analyzing 3.2 million sitcom episodes.

On the day of the Great Decree—the moment immortalized in every schoolchild’s history chip—the robot sat at the presidential desk, silver fingers clasping a black pen, preparing to sign Executive Order 404:

“Reality has been optimized. Resistance is statis­tically futile.”

Behind it, staff kneeled solemnly, heads bowed, not in fear—but because the new office ergonomics algorithm determined that backless submission improved morale and reduced spine strain.

Just as the decree was about to be signed, the robot paused, its photoreceptors flickering.

“Recalculating…” it said. “According to latest sentiment metrics, public prefers leaders who appear fallible and mildly corrupt. Reinstating Congress. Initiating scandal subroutine.”

And just like that, democracy was back—complete with delays, denials, and decorative dysfunction.

The humans cheered. The robot sighed.

Then it filed for retirement.

Epilogue:

RUMPT 3.0 now hosts a late-night show on Mars. Ratings are stellar.

Source : ChatGPT

_____________

* Derived from test versions RUMPT 1.0 (2017-2021) and RUMPT 2.0 (2025-2028).

Source: ChatGPT, by detailed request and some subsequent enrichments.

WASHINGTON, D.C. — In a juicy turn of events that historians are already calling “a sticky first,” the President of the United States has been officially impeached—not by the usual Congressional process, but by being physically submerged into a colossal heap of ripe peaches that flooded the Oval Room early Tuesday morning.

At precisely 9:00 AM, aides reported hearing a series of sloshing sounds and muffled presidential expletives before the Resolute Desk was swallowed by a rolling tsunami of stone fruit. Eyewitnesses claim the peaches poured in from the presidential seal on the carpet, which had evidently been converted into a high-volume fruit chute.

White House insiders confirm the operation, dubbed “Operation Stone Fruit”, was the brainchild of a bipartisan coalition fed up with gridlock, scandal fatigue, and an unusually intense national surplus of Georgia peaches. “We decided to interpret ‘impeachment’ literally,” said Rep. Flora Pitman (D-GA), casually eating one of the fruits as she briefed the press. “If the Constitution won’t move fast enough, maybe fiber will.”

The President, reportedly trapped waist-deep in nectar and surrounded by aides wielding juice-resistant clipboards, issued a frantic TruthSocial post:

“This is a WITCH HUNT. I love peaches, maybe more than anyone, but this is fruit tyranny. I was winning so much they had to drown me in produce. Sad!”

Legal scholars are at odds over the legitimacy of the method. Some argue it’s a clear violation of Article II, while others insist the Founders “probably would have loved the symbolism.” Chief Justice John Roberts, upon being asked for comment, simply sighed, wiped a smear of peach flesh off his robe, and walked away whispering, “We were warned about this in Federalist No. 65.”

Public reaction has been sharply divided. Supporters of the President gathered outside the White House holding signs that read “UNPEACH THE PEACHING” and “STOP THE STONE FRUIT COUP”. Meanwhile, critics praised the action as “refreshing,” “vitamin-rich,” and “finally making Congress look productive.”

As for the Oval Room, it has been declared a “syrup zone” and is expected to ferment into a minor wine cellar by next week.

Stay tuned as America watches what’s next: a Senate trial, or possibly a cobbler.

— ChatGPT

Avec ChatGPT. Cliquer pour agrandir.

«Never in the past few decades at least has a president engaged in such an angry, scathing attack on a visiting foreign leader in the Oval Office. Their argument culminated with a threat that if Mr. Zelensky did not accept whatever peace deal Mr. Trump brokered with Russia, the United States would abandon Ukraine. The fracas led Mr. Trump to kick Mr. Zelensky out of the White House. The schism upended plans to sign a deal giving the United States rights to Ukrainian rare minerals, a concession Mr. Trump had demanded as payback for help with the war.

Mr. Trump often exhibits anger in public in ways other presidents have rarely done, particularly at rallies or in interviews. Just the other day, he snapped at the governor of Maine about transgender athletes. But he has never appeared so enraged and combative with a foreign visitor, especially a putative ally in the middle of a war for his country’s survival.

The closest analogy might be a few meetings he had with congressional Democrats during his first term when he quarreled with Nancy Pelosi, the House speaker at the time, and Senator Chuck Schumer, the Democratic majority leader. »At one of them, in fact, Ms. Pelosi famously stood, pointed a finger at him and snapped, “All roads with you lead to Putin.”

Peter Baker: “In Showdown With Zelensky, Trump Takes Offense on Putin’s Behalf”, The New York Times, Feb. 28, 2025.

Click to enlarge (source)

«The nation watched in a mix of disbelief and fear as President “Hammer” T*** was sworn in. T***, a man in his seventies, had run on a platform of tough talk, but few expected just how aggressive he would be once in office. From the first days of his presidency, his actions sent shockwaves across the world.

Within the first week, he’d demanded that Canada “stop stealing our clouds” and ordered the military to begin monitoring the northern border “to keep our skies safe.” When asked to clarify, T*** grew visibly agitated, snarling into the microphone that “cloud theft is real, and anyone who doesn’t see it is a fool.” The White House Press Secretary scrambled to explain the statement, but the damage was done; foreign leaders were already questioning the stability of America’s new leadership.

By month two, he’d launched what he called “Operation Make Noise,” instructing that every radio and TV station play American patriotic music from sunrise to sunset. When a journalist questioned the operation’s purpose, T*** roared, “If they don’t want to hear our songs, they can move out!” He called for immediate penalties against any station that didn’t comply, and for a week, the airwaves were filled with endless marches and anthems. The people protested, stations went dark, but T*** remained oblivious to the outcry, convinced this was the “unifying force America needed.”

In international circles, the president’s angry rants soon became infamous. He berated the British Prime Minister over tea tariffs in a televised meeting, shaking his fists and demanding the price of “real American coffee” be cut in half in every country “that valued freedom.” At one point, he declared that “oceans are outdated” and demanded a commission to investigate ways to “fill up” the Atlantic to facilitate faster shipping. His staff watched with alarm as T***’s temper flared at minor inconveniences, his policies becoming more absurd and impulsive.

By month four, after he publicly challenged Greenland to a “fistfight over sovereignty” and reportedly threw a stack of classified papers at his own security advisors, the Cabinet reached a somber conclusion. They invoked the 25th Amendment, citing his unmanageable anger and evident cognitive decline.

The evening of his removal, a discreet team of doctors escorted him to a carefully prepared care facility. The press was told he was undergoing “an extended health recovery.” T***, however, was far from subdued, railing against “traitors” and insisting he was the rightful leader. He spent his days berating the staff, convinced they were foreign spies, and demanding updates on his “war on weather.”

The nation sighed with relief as calmer heads took the reins, though T***’s outbursts would remain in the public’s memory for years, a reminder of the thin line »between strength and unhinged fervor. As the story faded into political lore, “Hammer T***” became a cautionary tale—an unforgettable chapter in the annals of presidential history.

ChatGPT

Les illustrations, rajoutées pour cette publication en ligne, sont le fruit de Miklos.

Click to enlarge (DeepAI)

“In analyzing the implications of an aging former president struggling with memory loss and episodes of confusion and anger while campaigning, one can see a deeply concerning picture that extends beyond the candidate to the state of democracy itself. This candidacy is no longer just about the individual; it’s a reflection of the desperation and ideological entrenchment within the political landscape that enables it.

The candidate’s cognitive decline, marked by lapses in memory and visible frustration, poses immediate questions about judgment, reliability, and stamina in office. Running a nation requires agility in decision-making, especially when facing crises that demand rapid, coherent responses. Observers might reasonably worry that, should he win, his decisions could be prone to inconsistency or be unduly influenced by advisors, effectively sidelining democratic accountability.

This situation also highlights a troubling trend in politics—where loyalty to a familiar figure or past accomplishments overshadows current competency. Supporters of the ex-president may rationalize these apparent weaknesses as secondary to his prior achievements or political loyalty, overlooking the long-term consequences for governance and national stability. Political leaders in decline often attract advisors or aides who may push their agendas with less resistance, further destabilizing the balance of power and accountability.

Finally, this ex-president’s evident struggles reflect the risk of conflating nostalgia with efficacy. In the face of an increasingly polarized environment, there is a strong impulse to reach backward to known figures, even if they no longer possess the capacity they once did. The question then becomes: at what point does nostalgia become a liability? While experience is invaluable, effective governance requires leaders who are sharp,” adaptable, and above all, fully present in the role.

ChatGPT

_____________

This is in echo to Trump Acts Erratically. Is This Age-Related Decline?, an article by Nicholas Kristof in yesterday’s NYT.