Squaretable in the Flood: Trump’s Texas Visit and the Theater of Disaster
A real dispatch from the Hill Country, where political photo‑ops drown out real pain
President Trump visited Texas on Friday, July 11, 2025. The great American leader was here, giving us his condolences following a massive flood that wiped out a large section of the Texas Hill Country just a week or so ago. This was a typical gesture presidents make in the wake of disasters, and it came as no shock. I watched this normalized stunt play out before my eyes and wondered why it has become so normalized.
From way out here in space, this “roundtable,” as they called it, was really pretty small. It was not round at all. These political jerk‑offs were actually sitting in a square. There were normal local folks scattered within their mix to make it look as if this was actually a serious meeting. It wasn’t. This was just another photo op, and every elected and appointed official in the room knew it.
These people in Texas were hurting. Some were burying their dead while others kept searching. The political crowd was here spreading thoughts and prayers while name‑dropping and making empty promises. It took almost twenty minutes for the president to thank everyone and give credit to his pre‑chosen people and the state‑level wankers. This was a disgusting mess, and every national or state‑level politician who participated in this charade should have a special place in Hell. That’s not for me to decide.
At any rate, this was mostly just a show. Americans had dealt with situations like this before the ease of mobility came into their lives around 1900. There were times when a president was never seen by the people—they didn’t even know what he looked like. Maybe that was a good thing. Situations like these floods in Texas, fires in California, and whatever else happens seem to play themselves out when the political crowd and “We the People” stay separated.
But this squaretable, as I will call it, was an example of modern American political gamesmanship. It was the best and the worst of America crammed into a single room. Texas Governor Greg Abbott was seen almost making love to Donald Trump with his words. It was a gay pornographic film on steroids. I was expecting them to kiss at any moment. If they had, I would have started screaming that they were breaking the law in Texas. Why? Because drag shows are banned here. With the verbal footsies being played by politicians and their political lovers, this was a special sort of slap in the face to the regular people who are truly suffering. Those who might have even been brainwashed by this machine.
Melania, Donald Trump’s “wife”—I guess that’s how you would put it—even said a few words. She was caught off guard and you could tell it, but she managed, and she actually sounded sincere. I believe she might have been the only one in the room who was genuinely moved. Take that back. I think there was one more person who understood the seriousness on the ground: Dr. Phil. Yes, Dr. Phil was here, and he actually seemed as if he didn’t agree with what was going on. The look on his face as a “professional” seemed genuine. I kept waiting for Jordan B. Peterson to walk in and confront this mismanaged room filled with much of the worst our country has to offer. But he didn’t. God, that is who we need right now, isn’t it? We need a good Canadian with common sense to come rescue us. If you’re unfamiliar with him, look him up. What a real and good man.
But this squaretable discussion left a lot on the table. There were no apologies for the brainwashing of people who claim the federal government is run by communists looking to destroy America. You heard me right. While I was trying to stay awake, I realized that recordings were surfacing online of debates in Kerr County, Texas, from a few years ago where they talked about accepting federal funding for flood‑alert systems. The locals were saying shit that accused the Democrats of being communists and that the former Biden administration was this and that. They threatened local leaders that if they took money from the federal government they would hold them personally responsible. The locals claimed they didn’t need federal money and that a situation where they might need alert sirens would never happen. The cost and the deal with the government were far too political. I want to know how that makes them feel now.
This meeting was like watching L. Ron Hubbard come down to address his brainwashed Scientology followers in order to keep them calm. The Democrats weren’t even in attendance because they knew the locals were right about them. They’re kind of like communists. They’re a dysfunctional political party that doesn’t understand what real leadership is. They’re so worried about protecting a few fringe lobby lawyers on their side that they cannot handle their shit and earn the trust of the American people—the real American people. The Democrats have rightfully become demonized, and they’ve given Americans every reason not to trust them. But the Republicans we saw here today are equally as bad.
Trump’s visit to Texas was nothing more than American political shit stains on a bunch of body bags. People have lost faith in the government, and as the lies and cover‑ups of this disaster continue, the reality might—hopefully—set in that the Republicans screwed us too. This meeting was little more than brainwashing at its finest. L. Ron Hubbard would be proud. More importantly, Jim Jones is looking up in envy at how this has been managed, because not even he could convince most of America to drink the juice the way these politicians have. Collectively, Republicans and Democrats have brainwashed—and killed—more people than he ever came close to.
I do love a good cult story. There is more to come. The disaster is unfolding before our very eyes. Stay tuned.
And somewhere beyond the drowned cypress and cedar groves, the cicadas keep screaming—indifferent, eternal—while the squaretable crowd jets back to air‑conditioned bunkers and polished donors. Out here the Hill Country mud still stinks of diesel and dead cattle, and the floodwater snakes keep nosing at warped porch boards. Maybe that’s the punch line: nature doesn’t care who sits at the table, round or square. Pass the bourbon, friend; the river is rising again, and the only life raft we have left is the truth—ugly, soaked, and still smoking.
—Kerrville, 6:03 p.m.