Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Gather ‘round, patriots and popcorn lovers alike — the Mango Menace is back on the mic. There he stands, bathed in his trademark nuclear glow, declaring in full caps-lock glory that “We must face the enemy from within!”

And for once, folks — he’s absolutely right.

Because the true enemy from within is sitting right there behind the Resolute Desk, orange-stained fingers wrapped around a Diet Coke, plotting how to turn the world’s oldest democracy into the world’s tackiest reality show.

Donald J. Trump — DJ T, our tangerine-tinted titan of chaos — now wants to bring the U.S. military into armed conflict with U.S. citizens. Apparently, he’s tired of peaceful protesters and wants to replace them with soldiers who salute him like he’s Caesar, only with worse hair and a louder mouth.

Forget the Founding Fathers — this is the Foundering Father, turning “We the People” into “You the Targets.” Somewhere, George Washington just ghosted us from the afterlife.

Let’s take a quick, sarcastic stroll down memory lane. In 1807, Congress passed the Insurrection Act — a law meant for rare, actual emergencies, like armed rebellions. Not for Twitter meltdowns, not for protests where someone waved a “Free the Weed” flag, and definitely not because DJ T’s feelings got hurt on Truth Social.

But leave it to Trump — the man who thinks the Constitution is an obstacle course designed to test his patience — to see it as a blank check for personal vengeance. “Oh, you disagreed with me? You’re the enemy! Bring in the troops!”

Because why have a functioning democracy when you can cosplay as a dictator?

And don’t even get me started on the Posse Comitatus Act, that dusty old rule meant to keep the military out of domestic law enforcement. DJ T probably thinks “Posse Comitatus” is a new MAGA country band. To him, every law that limits his power is “very unfair,” which in Trump-speak translates to “How dare you stop me from breaking it?”

He loves to talk about “enemies within” — the media, Democrats, protesters, librarians, anyone with a functioning moral compass — but let’s be honest: the real enemy within is him and his cult of sycophantic stooges.

They’re the termites in the beams of democracy — gnawing away while pretending they’re renovating. You’ve got cronies who treat the Constitution like a scratch-off ticket, cabinet ghosts who only emerge to say “yes, sir,” and a loyal base that cheers while he saws off the branch we’re all sitting on.

Meanwhile, the man himself wages psychological war on reality. “I alone can fix it,” he says, as the country catches fire. It’s like watching Nero, but with spray tan and golf carts.

You see, it’s not about protecting America. It’s about controlling America — specifically, controlling what we see, say, and believe.

He calls for law and order, but what he really means is “order me another law I can break.”

He promises peace, but only after he’s silenced the people asking for justice.

He wants loyalty, but not to the flag — to himself. Because in Trump’s mind, “country” is just short for “brand.”

He doesn’t see soldiers; he sees props. He doesn’t see citizens; he sees ratings. And when you combine ego with ignorance and add a dash of fascist fantasy? You get one hell of a recipe for disaster — or as DJ T would call it, “a perfect phone call.”

Let’s stop pretending. The “enemy from within” isn’t your neighbor, or your kid’s civics teacher, or the people marching for justice. It’s the orange autocrat and his army of bootlicking bureaucrats, hell-bent on turning the Land of the Free into the Land of the Fearful.

He’s not defending democracy — he’s mugging it in broad daylight while claiming it slipped on the stairs.

And the worst part? He’s convinced millions to cheer while he does it.

We’ve seen this movie before — the charismatic strongman who calls dissent “treason,” who weaponizes patriotism, who turns the military into a political accessory.

It never ends with parades and prosperity. It ends with smoke, silence, and regret.

But don’t worry, America! This time’s different — we’ve got better Wi-Fi, live-streamed tyranny, and hashtags to go with our collapse.

So yes, DJ T is right: there is an enemy from within.

But it’s not the protester, not the journalist, not the voter who dared to think independently.

It’s the mango menace himself — the Cheeto Caesar of chaos — and the pack of cowardly courtiers who’d rather burn the republic than admit they were wrong.

History has a funny way of warning us.

It whispers, “Don’t let the tyrants march again.”

But DJ T isn’t listening. He’s too busy practicing his salute in the mirror, wondering which uniform makes his gut look more presidential.