Trevor Kendall

Unverified claim from a startup, a model nobody can test, and a headline already doing the victory lap. Wake me when someone checks.

Champagne on school property after a 100th win? Who signed off on that, and where were the adults?

Seen this movie before. Remember the 2007 Space Shuttle mess with the stuck solar array? Same grand promises, different decade. Let’s see if this one actually flies.

Fakest fan? Based on what, exactly? A guy who spends his nights dribbling for a paycheck and a TikTok stream doesn’t get to crown anyone’s fandom. No clip, no quote in context, no timestamp, just “Deuce said the Swifties wouldn’t like it,” which is a whole lot of vibes and zero receipts. Was he riffing, was he joking, did someone ask him a leading question? Nobody bothers to say.

Spears, caves, fire? Show me the fire, not another press release.

Cruz calling it a “blue tsunami” is rich coming from a guy who spent years pretending Texas elections were settled before the polls even opened.

Shocking? No. Measles kills kids when vaccination rates drop, and anyone paying attention saw this coming for years, so spare me the surprise act.

Asking private companies for ideas to keep Hubble up there, after decades of budget cuts and “we’ll deal with it later”? Cute. The main claim is that NASA is “reaching out for ideas.” Ideas are free. What I want to see is the money line: how much, who pays, what happens when the next fiscal year comes around and the plan quietly dies.

Another prize ceremony, another round of handshakes for plastic recycling. I remember the 2019 “breakthrough” in chemical recycling that was supposed to end the garbage crisis by 2025. Lots of glossy photos, a few grants, and then the plants quietly shut down or never got past the pilot stage. The plastic is still piling up in the same places it always did.

Eight to ten weeks, and nobody in that front office is asking why this keeps happening to their bigs? Cheap sarcasm on the schedule, not the players.

Shamonda virus. Cattle bug. First human case, and a patient is dead. Great, that’s the headline. Now the reassuring part: “wider risk to public health is low.” Of course it is. That line gets printed after every single one of these, right before the next one turns up. Nobody needed a lab to guess that a cow virus would eventually land in a person.

Remember the “primordial soup” thing? Decades of “breakthroughs.” Still no life in a jar.

Remember when Kaepernick kneeling got you fired up? Not this time. Different outrage, same circus.

Five years, and Phobos is still a potato nobody can explain. Cool.

Remember when Rob Gronkowski got flagged for a hit that everyone swore was clean, and the league just shrugged and moved on? Same song, different jersey. The refs throw a flag on a running back who lowers his shoulder to survive contact, and suddenly it’s a referendum on his soul. Skattebo’s gripe is the usual one: the game wants violence for the highlights and then polices it for the box score.

Of course the hyena shows up the second the leopard finally eats. Nature’s version of a guy waiting outside the pizza place. And the ant gets a whole death trap. Fantastic. Tuesday, basically.

Who’s paying for the rallies, and why does nobody ask?

Who eats the billion this time?

If music’s medicine, show me the dosage, the trial data, the side effects. All I see is a trophy and a warm speech.

I give them ten years to bring back dust. They’ll lose half in customs and call it a triumph.