By Adam Watson
Published: February 7, 2026

WASHINGTON, D.C.—In what political analysts are calling "a new circle of hell we didn't know existed," sources confirm that President Trump is preparing to deliver a nationally televised address in blackface, because apparently 2026 looked at 2025 and said, "hold my beer."

The controversy erupted earlier this week after the President released what can only be described as a "racially charged simian meme" depicting a former president—a move that sent Google Trends into cardiac arrest and Republican PR teams diving out of windows like it's 1929 all over again.

"Yeah, his behavior is a bit off," explained Larry, a D.C. street "import/export representative" (read: guy who sells knock-off Ray-Bans near the Lincoln Memorial). "He probably didn't even mean it, you know." Larry then attempted to sell us a Rolex for $40 and disappeared into a crowd of bewildered tourists.

But wait—it gets worse! (It always does.)

According to sources who wish they could unhear what they heard, the President was overheard last week enthusiastically planning his upcoming national address. "I think it'd be neat, it'd be great. I love colored people," he reportedly said, as if auditioning for a role in a very special episode of Black Mirror written by someone who failed history class.

For our younger readers unfamiliar with the concept: blackface is a historically racist practice of white performers painting their faces black to mock African Americans, primarily popularized in 19th-century minstrel shows. It's universally regarded as deeply offensive—right up there with "explaining why you're not racist" and "calling customer service just to argue."

Republican leadership has responded to the controversy with their signature move: aggressive hand-wringing followed by strategic amnesia.

"We're... monitoring the situation," said one unnamed GOP senator, slowly backing toward the nearest exit. "The President has a unique communication style that sometimes—oh god, is that a camera? I have to go."

Senate Minority Whip encountered outside a Capitol Hill restroom claimed he "hadn't heard about it" despite it being literally the #1 trending topic on Google at time of publication. When pressed, he began speaking in tongues and was escorted away by concerned staffers.

Insiders also claim the President does "a mean improvisational 7-Eleven worker" impression, though we're taking that on faith since our source immediately requested asylum in Canada after sharing this information.

The White House Press Secretary, when asked for comment, simply stared into the middle distance for forty-five seconds before whispering, "I don't get paid enough for this," and walking directly out of the briefing room.

Look, we here at Glitter an Grime appreciate attempts at humor—we're literally a satirical publication clawing our way from 6 subscribers to media relevancy one unhinged article at a time. But there's "edgy satire that punches up at power structures" and then there's "racist bullshit that punches down at marginalized communities."

This isn't comedy. It's just racism with a laugh track.

The truly hilarious part? In a timeline where artificial intelligence can write symphonies and cure diseases, we're still dealing with this 19th-century minstrel show garbage. The future is stupid.

UPDATE (3:47 PM EST): The White House has released a statement clarifying that the President's remarks were "taken out of context" and that he was actually referring to his upcoming "Unity Through Understanding Tour," which will feature him dressing as various American archetypes to "bridge divides." We have so many questions. We're afraid of the answers.

Glitter an Grime is a satirical newsletter documenting the slow-motion car crash of modern civilization. We also spotlight real artists doing actual beautiful things. Subscribe at glitterangrime.com because misery loves company.

By Clementine Vex
Published: February 7, 2026

SOMEWHERE, AMERICA (which is everywhere)—In what legal scholars are calling "the most librarian thing that has ever happened," the Middleton Public Library has filed a class-action lawsuit against every person who has ever checked out a book, claiming widespread copyright infringement through unauthorized "neural network training."

Head Librarian Tanner Oswalt, a man who looks like he alphabetizes his spice rack and enjoys it, announced the lawsuit during Tuesday's city council meeting while visibly shaking with what witnesses described as "barely contained bibliophile rage."

"It just salts my toothpaste," Oswalt declared, pounding his fist on a podium decorated with a faded READ poster. "All these people learning and reading and then putting out content as if they made it themselves. Well, NO MORE."

/

/

The 47-page complaint, written entirely in Times New Roman 12-point font (double-spaced, naturally), argues that library patrons have been "training their biological neural networks" on copyrighted material for decades without proper compensation or attribution.

"Every time someone reads The Great Gatsby and then writes their own story about disillusionment and the American Dream, that's theft," explained Gina Taglione, the library's newly appointed Legal Enforcement Coordinator and former CrossFit instructor. "From Mark Twain to Shakespeare, it's all illegal."

When we gently pointed out that Shakespeare died in 1616 and his works are definitively in the public domain, Taglione squinted at us suspiciously and said, "That's exactly what Big Reading wants you to think."

Sources close to Oswalt suggest the lawsuit stems from a particularly traumatic incident last month involving a patron who returned Infinite Jest six weeks late, claimed to have "absorbed its essence," and then started a podcast about postmodern literature.

"Tanner just snapped," confided library assistant Marcus Webb, speaking on condition of anonymity before immediately telling us his full name and Social Security number. "He started muttering about 'unlicensed knowledge transfer' and drawing flow charts connecting David Foster Wallace to AI training data sets. We tried to get him to take a vacation, but he just reorganized the entire biography section by subjects' astrological signs."

The lawsuit explicitly references ongoing litigation against generative AI companies, arguing that if OpenAI and Meta can be sued for training models on copyrighted content, then human brains should be held to the same standard.

"What's the difference between ChatGPT reading a million books and generating content, versus Brenda from book club reading a million books and then writing her little Etsy shop descriptions?" Oswalt asked during a press conference held in the library's YA section, surrounded by judgmental cardboard cutouts of popular authors. "Both are unauthorized derivative works. Both are theft."

When asked if he understood the fundamental difference between human cognition and artificial intelligence, Oswalt responded, "Do YOU?" in a tone that suggested he'd been waiting his entire career to deploy that comeback.

Professor Diana Chen of Stanford Law School, reached while actively trying not to be reached, called the lawsuit "fascinatingly deranged."

"This is what happens when someone reads one article about AI copyright law and decides they've cracked the matrix," Chen explained, the exhaustion palpable in her voice. "Libraries exist specifically to facilitate the free exchange of knowledge. Suing people for learning from books is like... it's like a hospital suing people for getting healthier. It's antithetical to the entire institutional purpose."

When informed of Chen's comments, Oswalt reportedly whispered, "She's been compromised by Big Literacy," and added her to the lawsuit.

Local residents have responded to the lawsuit with a mixture of bewilderment and mild concern about Oswalt's mental health.

"I mean, I read Eat, Pray, Love and then made some pasta," said community member Jennifer Hartley, 34, mother of two. "Am I going to jail? Is this about the pasta?"

Eight-year-old Timothy Chen, holder of a library card since age 5, told us he's "pretty sure this isn't how reading works" before asking if we had any Pokémon cards.

The Middleton chapter of the ACLU released a statement that simply read: "What the fuck?" followed by a lengthy pause and then "No seriously, what?"

By Adam Watson
A Manifesto Disguised as Begging

Alright, look. We've roasted tech bros, eviscerated performative activism, and just spent 1,200 words mocking a fictional librarian's descent into copyright madness. But here's the thing we actually give a shit about: real artists making real things in a world that increasingly doesn't pay them for it.

So between our regularly scheduled programming of satirical chaos and cultural arson, we want to spotlight you—assuming you make something that doesn't suck.

EVERYTHING. And we mean that in the least creepy way possible.

If you make something and you're not a racist/sexist/generally hateful asshole about it, we want to hear from you.

We currently have 6 subscribers. Six. That's fewer than the number of people in my weekly therapy group (just kidding, I can't afford therapy).

But here's what we do have:

Plus, when we inevitably blow up and become the next McSweeney's or The Onion or whatever—and we will, because spite is an excellent motivator—you'll have been featured back when we were scrappy as hell.

Email us at: [[email protected]]
Subject line: "I MAKE THINGS" (or something equally direct)

Include:

What we're NOT looking for:

Here's the truth: We started Glitter an Grime because the world is absurd and beautiful and horrifying, often simultaneously. We mock the absurd and horrifying parts because satire is how we cope with late-stage capitalism eating itself in real-time.

But we spotlight artists because you're the antidote. While tech bros are promising AI will replace human creativity, you're out here actually creating. While corporations are strip-mining culture for IP, you're making new culture. While everyone's doomscrolling themselves into oblivion, you're making something that matters.

We don't have venture capital funding or a staff of 50. We have a chaotic editor (hi), a dream of not shouting into the void forever, and a deeply held belief that the people making weird, beautiful, angry, joyful things deserve to be seen.

So: Send us your junk.

Let's build something that doesn't suck.

👉 glitterangrime.com

It's free. We send you satirical chaos and artist spotlights. You get to feel morally superior for supporting independent media. Everyone wins.