The Bloated, Brutal Bill of Bullshit

One Vote. $2.3 Trillion. And a Bill Full of Bullshit.

In the early hours of Thursday morning, while most Americans were still asleep, the House quietly passed what Speaker Mike Johnson proudly called “one big, beautiful” reconciliation bill. There were no fireworks. No sweeping national consensus. Just a fragile 215–214 vote that held together long enough to force it through — not by vision, but by fear. According to the official House roll call, it passed by the narrowest of margins. Not a single Democrat voted in favour. Three Republicans broke ranks — two voting no (Reps. Warren Davidson and Thomas Massie), and one (Rep. Andy Harris) simply choosing to mark himself "present."

That’s not governance. That’s a legislative hostage crisis.

Let’s call it what it is: a performative stunt dressed up as policy — engineered not to fix anything, but to fuel talking points and feed the base. It’s the kind of bill that plays well on right-wing media but falls apart under the slightest scrutiny. Behind the patriotic language and scrambled early-morning theatrics lies a darker reality: this wasn’t a plan. It was a panic.

A 42-page rush job, cobbled together to bribe moderates with blue-state tax breaks and placate hardliners with cuts so deep they bleed. No real negotiation. No national interest. Just backroom politics with a red tie and a hangover from 2017. Even within the Republican ranks, the bill’s contradictions were too much to stomach. Because when a bill offers tax giveaways to the rich while gutting Medicaid and pretending to “save the economy,” the smell of hypocrisy is hard to ignore — even for true believers.

Even former Republican Congressman Justin Amash called the bill,

“Fiscally dishonest and morally bankrupt,”

...arguing it...

“repeats every mistake of the past — bigger cuts for the poor, bigger handouts for the rich, and a bigger lie about what freedom actually means.”

This isn’t what responsible governance looks like. It’s what legislative collapse looks like when repackaged for campaign season.

A Bill of Betrayals

This wasn’t a negotiation. It was a scramble — a 7 a.m. panic draft pulled together not for the country, but for the party. This wasn’t policy. It was a stitched-together Frankenstein draft — politics masquerading as law by Speaker Mike Johnson in the final hours. The goal? Bribe just enough moderates to stay on board with promises of SALT deduction expansions, while tossing red meat to the far right in the form of harsher Medicaid work requirements and deeper social cuts.

“The idea that this bill doesn’t add to the deficit is a joke. It’s a $20 trillion debt bomb waiting to go off.” — Congressman Thomas Massie (R-KY), Fiscal Conservative

Let’s be clear: this wasn’t crafted to help Americans. It was crafted to hold the Republican conference together.

This bill isn’t just cynical — it’s recycled. Much of it mirrors the worst parts of the 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act, which according to the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities (CBPP) added nearly $2 trillion to the deficit and delivered over 60% of its benefits to the top 20% of earners. Now, in 2025, they’ve doubled down — extending those cuts, tossing in tax breaks for tips and overtime income (a nod to the service industry that masks the lack of wage protections), and funnelling billions more into military spending and immigration enforcement.

All while cutting Medicaid.

All while slicing into SNAP.

All while squeezing education and gutting clean energy support.

In short: if you're wealthy, you're rewarded. If you're vulnerable, you're expendable.

And the irony? To “pay” for these cuts — they’re blowing the roof off the debt ceiling by another $4 trillion. That’s not reform. That’s looting.

Debt, Lies, and Fiscal Gaslighting

Here’s the part that should make your jaw drop.

This bill — the one Republicans are parading as a victory for “fiscal responsibility” — would add $2.3 trillion to the national deficit over the next decade. That’s not a left-wing opinion. That’s straight from the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office. According to their analysis, the combination of permanent tax cuts and reduced revenue from regressive adjustments like the tip tax exemption will massively outweigh any of the so-called “savings” from slashing Medicaid or food assistance.

So much for balancing the books.

And yet, the same people who spent the last decade fear-mongering about the deficit — who threatened government shutdowns over debt ceilings and lectured the public about "living within our means" — have now green-lit a bill that explodes spending at the top while hollowing out the bottom.

That’s not fiscal conservatism. That’s fiscal theatre.

“This bill is structurally unsustainable and built to fail. It’s a political stunt masquerading as fiscal policy — and it’s going to cost us dearly.” — Maya MacGuineas, President of the Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget

It’s austerity for the poor and abundance for the rich — the kind of upside-down budgeting that tells a struggling family to make sacrifices while writing a blank check to defence contractors and high-income households.

Worse still, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen this playbook. The 2011 debt ceiling crisis under Obama nearly crashed the global economy. The 2017 tax cuts gutted revenue and deepened inequality. And now, in 2025, we’re watching the same story unfold — but with even less shame and even higher stakes.

What This Really Means

Let’s stop pretending this is about numbers. It’s not. This bill isn’t a budget — it’s a manifesto. A declaration of priorities, cloaked in bureaucracy.

Because when you slice healthcare for low-income families but extend tax breaks for high-income earners, you’re not “trimming fat” — you’re making a choice. When you gut education, but throw billions at the Pentagon, you’re not “protecting security” — you’re feeding a machine. When you strip away clean energy incentives during a climate crisis, you’re not “balancing” anything — you’re ensuring we burn hotter, longer, and faster.

This is ideology, plain and simple.

It’s a war on the poor disguised as fiscal prudence. It’s trickle-down economics wearing a new suit and a flag pin. It’s the tired lie that if we just cut enough from the people who have the least, it will somehow empower them to have more. It never works. But that’s never the point.

The point is control — and loyalty.

It’s about telling donors and hardliners, “we delivered.” It’s about showing red-state voters that you punished the right enemies. And it’s about flooding the airwaves with just enough talking points to make it all sound noble.

But let’s not kid ourselves.

This bill is not beautiful. It’s brutal.

It’s not big. It’s bloated. It's bullshit.

And it’s not a reconciliation. It’s a rupture — a violent tear in the social fabric, a cynical reshaping of who matters and who doesn’t.

And they’re daring us not to notice.

A Country on Autopilot Toward Austerity

We’ve seen this play out before. The script is old. The language changes, but the agenda doesn’t.

Slashing social safety nets to “pay” for tax cuts at the top isn’t innovative policy. It’s Reaganomics reheated — but now with fewer checks and more cruelty. Back then, it was sold as a way to unleash the private sector. Today, it’s packaged as “freedom” and “individual responsibility.” But the end result is the same: the rich get richer, and everyone else is told to make do with less.

This bill follows that same tired arc — just louder and meaner.

Policy for the Powerful, Punishment for the Rest

Education funding? Cut. Medicaid? Slashed. Food assistance? Gutted. Energy and environmental programs? On the chopping block. Meanwhile, defence contractors feast. ICE gets more tools. And the tax breaks keep flowing up the ladder.

And here’s the insult wrapped in all of it: they claim it’s for workers. That cutting taxes on tips and overtime is “putting money back in people’s pockets.” As if a waiter struggling to afford rent is supposed to thank Congress for exempting his extra shifts — while letting billionaires write off private jets.

It’s cosmetic compassion. Performative populism. They’ll say they’re helping “hard-working Americans,” but they mean something very specific — and very few.

Let’s be brutally honest: this bill isn’t for the working class. It’s for those who exploit them. For corporations. For high earners. For political donors. For anyone who already has power — and wants more.

The rest of the country? They’re told to work harder, complain less, and pray they don’t get sick.

And if that sounds dystopian, that’s because it is.

Where Is the Outrage?

This bill should have triggered mass protest.

Not just tweets. Not just cable news debate. Actual, public, visible outrage. Because what just happened wasn’t a policy disagreement — it was a political mugging in plain sight. It was a transfer of wealth, risk, and responsibility away from the state and onto the backs of ordinary people. And it happened with barely a sound.

One vote. That’s all that separated this bill from failure. One Republican shift, and it would have collapsed. But instead, it passed — not because the country demanded it, but because enough lawmakers were either bought, bullied, or blind.

And while they celebrated the "win," the public barely noticed.

Because let’s face it: outrage fatigue is real. After years of political chaos, scandals, court rulings, rollbacks, and culture war whiplash, the threshold for moral panic has been pushed so high that bills like this — bills that should horrify us — barely break through the noise.

And that’s exactly the point.

“If Republicans are so proud of what is in this bill, then why are you trying to ram it through in the dead of night?” — Congressman Jim McGovern (D-MA), House Rules Committee Ranking Member

This bill was designed to pass quietly. Early morning. Behind closed doors. Wrapped in patriotic language. It’s not incompetence — it’s strategy. Keep people confused. Keep the media distracted. Keep outrage fragmented and fleeting.

Meanwhile, the winners — corporations, donors, and the architects of structural inequality — know exactly what’s been handed to them.

So let’s not misread the silence as acceptance. Let’s name it for what it is: exhaustion. Disconnection. And the dangerous normalisation of political cruelty dressed up as law.

Because this wasn’t a win for “the American taxpayer.” It was a heist — and most people didn’t even see it happen.

The Future This Bill Foreshadows

And what does the future hold? This isn’t just a bad bill. It’s a preview... of 529 days of dysfunction, deregulation, and deliberate decay — unless voters stop it cold!

Fiscal watchdogs like the Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget have warned this path is “structurally unsustainable” and “built to fail,” noting the bill’s permanent tax changes are “disconnected from economic reality and designed to score political points, not policy wins.”

It’s a warning of what’s coming if the current political trajectory holds — a future shaped not by compromise or vision, but by raw ideological muscle. A government that no longer governs but performs. A legislature that no longer builds but punishes. And a democracy that no longer protects the vulnerable but feeds off their silence.

This bill is not an outlier. It’s a signal flare. It tells us exactly where this coalition is headed — toward an America where the safety net is seen as weakness, where public investment is mocked, and where cruelty is reframed as clarity.

Under this future, “freedom” will mean fending for yourself.

“Responsibility” will mean losing your benefits if you get sick.

“Sovereignty” will mean pouring more money into borders and bombs while public schools crumble.

And worst of all — it’ll all be done with a smile. With press conferences. With hashtags. With flag-draped podiums and patriotic slogans. Because the performance will always be louder than the policy.

But make no mistake: the outcomes will be real. Tangible. Brutal. We’re not talking about political theory — we’re talking about whether a single mother can get her insulin. Whether a teacher can afford housing. Whether a disabled veteran can keep their support.

And if this sounds like alarmism, good. Because it should!

This bill isn’t just bad. It’s the blueprint for a government that talks about liberty while quietly building a system where the only people truly free are the ones writing the cheques.

One Last Thing

This is how democracy erodes. Not with tanks in the streets or dramatic declarations, but with quiet votes at inconvenient hours. With bills passed when nobody’s watching. With cruelty buried under spreadsheets and slogans.

I'm going to be plain, one more time, this "Big Beautiful Bill" is none of those things. It’s not big — it’s bloated. It’s not beautiful — it’s brutal. It's plain BULLSHIT.

But for those of you, with a more professional ear, it’s not even a reconciliation — it’s a rupture. A rupture of trust. Of values. Of the very idea that government might still be capable of serving the many instead of pleasing the few.

This is how it happens: tax breaks at the top, cuts at the bottom, and silence in the middle. Year after year. Vote after vote. Until the ground shifts beneath us and we realise — too late — that the safety nets are gone, the institutions hollowed out, and the language of freedom repurposed to justify abandonment.

So if you’re angry, stay angry.

If you’re tired, rest — but don’t look away.

Because what passed in the House that morning wasn’t just another bill. It was a stress test for American democracy. And we failed it — not because people are evil, but because too many were comfortable enough to ignore it.

There is still time to call this what it is.

But only if we stop pretending it’s normal.

So… Call it. Share it. Fight it. But whatever you do — don’t pretend it’s policy. Because it’s not.