When Joseph Stalin took the stage, applause wasn’t just standard. It meant your freedom.  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­    ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏  ͏ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­ ­  

Saturday, March 14

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When Joseph Stalin took the stage, applause wasn’t just standard. It meant your freedom. 

 

As the crowd thundered with cheers, no one dared to break first. Not after two minutes. Not after four. Not after six. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote in “The Gulag Archipelago,” “It was becoming insufferably silly even to those who adored Stalin.” 

 

Finally, after 11 minutes, one man — the director of a paper factory — broke the spell. And with that one act of independence, he sealed his fate. The director was arrested that evening. 

 

On his interrogation document, an important lesson was inked into the pages: “Don’t ever be the first to stop applauding!”

 

Now, Donald Trump’s men are learning the same lesson — the humiliating way. Although this time, the question is different: “Who will be the first to take off their shoes?”

Screenshot 2026-03-14 at 11.16.28 AM

Across Washington, D.C., a new fashion trend has taken hold of those in Trump’s circle: embarrassingly oversized clown shoes. 

 

More specifically, a pair of $145 Florsheim oxfords. Trump is apparently obsessed with the shoes, and it’s getting weird. According to the Wall Street Journal, the president has taken to handing them out to Cabinet members, advisors and White House VIPs. He even makes it a game: guessing people’s shoe size, placing an order and then signing the box. 

 

Forget policy and matters of government. At Cabinet meetings, Trump jumps in to ask, “Did you get the shoes?” As one female staffer noted, “All the boys have them.”

 

But this isn’t the type of gift horse you can safely look in the mouth. Another female White House staffer joked, “It’s hysterical because everybody’s afraid not to wear them.” Like Stalin, Trump is paying attention to see who stops clapping first.

Trump’s shoe test borders on humiliation ritual. They appear much too big on most of the recipients, and with their pants hemmed to match the president’s absurdly short length, it’s comical. One might assume that Trump purchases the incorrect sizes on purpose. 

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As Trump quipped to an (unnamed) politician who wears a size 7, “You know you can tell a lot about a man by his shoe size.” 

 

So far, confirmed shoe victims include J.D. Vance, Marco Rubio, Pete Hegseth, Howard Lutnick, Sean Hannity and Lindsey Graham. There are surely more who are suffering in silence. 

 

Trump’s clown shoe antics are somehow beyond “insufferably silly.” It is so blatantly on the nose that if this were a novel, I would be required to suspend my disbelief. 

 

And this isn’t just about an ill-fitting shoe. The president’s strange side-quest perfectly captures the psychology of MAGA. In this circus we call a government, the clowns are the men surrounding Trump, and he is their idiotic ringmaster. 

 

As he styles them to his liking, they are too afraid to disobey. If they take off the shoes, will he cast them out of his inner circle? Will he tarnish them on Truth Social? Will he send them to the gulag? 

 

That last one isn’t a joke, nor is it an exaggeration. In an era of baseless political prosecutions, you are one wrong shoe away from facing an indictment. 

 

As one cabinet secretary complained, he had to shelve his Louis Vuittons in favor of the president’s preferred style. What else has he had to shelve over the years to please the president? His morals? His values? His brain? 

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While we have all been visually assaulted by the clown shoes, we have also felt the consequences of Trump’s hold on the Republican Party. 

 

Sen. Susan Collins has done pirouettes around her policy positions in order to please Trump. The Department of Justice has found itself on the other side of its own lawsuit in its quest to demand voter rolls and rig the midterms. And just recently, Sen. John Cornyn — who is facing an intense runoff election — has flipped on the filibuster to appease Trump on the SAVE America Act. 

 

The list of spineless capitulations is practically endless. If MAGA men can’t stand up to Trump on the shoes they choose to wear, what can they stand up to the president on? The answer is easy: nothing.

While Trump’s circle can’t find the strength to disagree with the president, it’s worth noting that Weyco, the parent company of Trump’s beloved Florsheim, is currently suing the administration over tariffs. 

 

Businesses may oppose Trump’s policies, the public may be worried for democracy, and protestors may be taking to the streets — but the audience won’t stop clapping. They have learned Solzhenitsyn’s lesson. 

 

The Republican Party will follow Trump off a cliff — and given their footwear, they will likely trip over the edge. 

 

Now, here's some joy from one of our pawtners in the opposition movement.

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