CONGRATULATIONS, AMERICA: YOU’RE GETTING FLEECED. AGAIN.

Every time we hit one of these “must-pass” funding deadlines, I tell you the same thing: watch what they do right before Christmas, when nobody pays attention. And like clockwork, here we are. 

Right now, Senators Mike Lee, Ron Johnson, and Rick Scott have brought five appropriations bills to a standstill. Why? Because of earmarks—the same pork-barrel garbage Republicans once claimed to oppose. The GOP’s own conference rules have had a moratorium on earmarks since 2011. It’s never been rescinded. It’s just been… ignored. 

And now Republicans are mad these three are actually objecting. Leadership is practically begging the President to “step in,” which in practice means: bully the critics, shame them on social media, and ram the spending through anyway. We’ve seen this movie. 

Buried in this “minibus” are 280+ earmarks, roughly $5+ billion in member pet projects: 

• • Millions for activist groups and “community centers”
  • Stadiums, fish passages, “elephant-shaped” buildings
  • Targeted goodies in New York, New Jersey, West Virginia, the Dakotas, and more

All of that on top of billions more in overseas defense and security funding, while we sit $38 trillion in debt and pay over $1.2 trillion a year just in interest. 

And they make it hard on purpose to see what they’re doing. Earmark lists are buried in separate PDFs, formatted inconsistently, designed so you can’t easily download, sort, or total them. That’s not transparency. That’s camouflage. 

Let’s be honest: this is the real business model of Washington. The longer you stay, the more seniority you get, the more taxpayer cash you can drag back to your district to buy goodwill and reelection. “Look what I brought home” plays great in the local press, even if it’s fiscally suicidal for the country. 

We shut down earmarks in 2010 after voters revolted. They quietly rebranded them as “member-directed spending” in 2021 and turned the spigot back on. New label, same scam. 

At some point, voters have to decide if they’re done being played. I’m at the point where I honestly don’t care what letter is next to the name—if you’ve been in that building helping build this mess, you shouldn’t be trusted to fix it. 

Prove me wrong.