Part Three – Donald Trump
And then there was Trump.
Seventy-five minutes of Trump.
I had this nice little system going by the time I got to his speech.
Claim.
Pause.
Research.
Verdict.
Next claim.
Donald Trump destroyed my neat little note-taking system in about six minutes.
Because Donald Trump doesn’t really speak in subjects.
He speaks in weather systems.
Iran.
Diesel.
Farmers.
The economy.
California.
Beef.
China.
Immigration.
Dan Osborn.
Mail-in ballots.
Whatever happened to be standing within conversational reach at that exact moment.
All delivered with the confidence of a man who has never once wondered whether the next sentence should remain an inside thought.
So we’re not going minute by minute.
We’re going by subject.
It’s safer for everyone.
First, Donald Trump Is Really Fucking Good at This
I need to get something out of the way before we start checking claims.
Donald Trump knows how to work a rally.
That is not the same sentence as:
Donald Trump is a good president.
It is not:
Donald Trump is a good person.
It is:
Donald Trump knows how to work a rally.
Listen to the crowd.
He understands rhythm.
He understands applause lines.
He understands how to turn a policy point into a story and a story into a grievance and a grievance into a joke and a joke into an applause line before circling back to the policy point.
Sometimes.
Other times he just keeps driving until the road becomes theoretical.
But as a political performer?
He’s good at it.
I loathe Donald Trump.
Still do.
But facts don’t owe my opinions loyalty.
So let’s get to them.
Iran
Trump spent a substantial chunk of the speech talking about Iran and energy.
His basic argument was that the conflict involving Iran had put serious pressure on fuel markets and that diesel prices had become a problem serious enough to require federal action.
That underlying point?
Real.
The disruption had pushed diesel prices sharply higher, and the administration was taking emergency steps aimed at reducing the pain.
So if the claim is:
The Iran conflict is contributing to high diesel prices.
Point Trump.
And Then He Kept Talking
This is a recurring problem.
Trump had a defensible argument about Iran, nuclear weapons and the potential danger of a hostile Iranian regime possessing them.
Then he started talking about Los Angeles and San Diego in a way that sounded like he was inviting Iran to go ahead and take them out.
California officials condemned the comments.
The White House said Trump was illustrating the danger Iran could pose if it obtained nuclear weapons.
I understand the underlying argument.
I also understand words.
And when you’re the President of the United States talking about American cities, words matter.
A shitload of Marines are in San Diego too, incidentally.
You had the argument.
Then you kept fucking talking.
Don’t use American cities as rhetorical collateral damage.
Red Diesel
Then we got to something considerably more interesting to me.
Red diesel.
For people who don’t spend their lives around trucks, farms and equipment, red-dyed diesel is generally fuel intended for off-road uses like agricultural and construction equipment.
It’s dyed so it can be distinguished from taxable on-road diesel.
Trump signed an executive action Monday temporarily expanding the circumstances in which that fuel could be used on highways through the end of the year.
The policy also directed the government to defer applicable federal excise-tax obligations while officials examined longer-term relief.
Political version:
TAX-FREE RED DIESEL.
Government version:
Please enjoy several paragraphs of statutory authority.
But underneath the political packaging is an actual policy action.
Does It Actually Save Money?
Yes.
The federal excise tax on highway diesel is 24.4 cents per gallon.
On 250 gallons, that’s $61.
Depending on how state taxes and emergency relief interact, the administration says the savings can exceed $100 on a fill-up.
That’s real money at the pump. But deferring a tax bill isn’t canceling it. The order directs Treasury to explore forgiveness, including legislation; implementation and state taxes still matter.
It’s also not a magical solution to fuel prices.
The underlying supply problem doesn’t disappear because the dye changed.
And the relief is temporary.
It does nothing for the supply/demand problem.
But if the question is whether the action can reduce immediate fuel costs?
Yes.
Point Trump.
Right to Repair
Then Trump started talking about farmers being able to repair their own equipment.
And again:
The underlying issue is real.
I covered this in Part Two because this one lives directly in my professional wheelhouse.
Modern equipment can absolutely become manufacturer-dependent because diagnosis, programming, software, security access and module pairing are increasingly required to complete repairs.
The federal government has taken real action on right to repair.
The FTC’s 2026 Deere settlement is real.
EPA guidance aimed at making legitimate emissions-related repair possible is real.
Farmers and independent technicians needing access to repair information and tools?
Real issue.
Then Trump told the jail story.
Farmers Aren’t Going to Jail Just for Fixing Their Tractor
Trump has repeatedly told a story about a man who supposedly faced years in prison for repairing his own vehicle or equipment.
One documented example from these pardons is a diesel-shop owner.
But the underlying criminal case was not simply:
Man fixes his own truck. Government sends him to prison.
And this is where my mechanic brain starts twitching.
Replacing a failed NOx sensor?
Repair.
Replacing a DEF doser?
Repair.
Diagnosing an SCR problem?
Repair.
Programming a replacement module?
Repair.
Intentionally defeating or permanently disabling an emissions system?
That’s something else.
A repair and an emissions deletion aren’t the same thing.
The actual right-to-repair argument is strong enough.
It doesn’t need a criminal emissions-tampering case dressed up as a farmer getting hauled away because he turned a wrench.
This Is Exactly How Political Bullshit Works
And I want to stop here because this example is useful.
There’s a real man.
There was a real prosecution.
There was a real prison sentence.
Trump really pardoned him.
Right to repair really is a legitimate issue.
Emissions regulations really can complicate repair.
All of those individual pieces can be true.
And you can still assemble them into a misleading story.
That’s one of the most effective forms of political bullshit because it doesn’t require inventing everything.
It just requires arranging the true things incorrectly.
Farmers
Trump also talked about agricultural relief.
He cited roughly $12 billion nationally and around half a billion dollars going to about 33,000 Nebraska farmers.
The Nebraska figure holds up remarkably well.
The administration separately announced roughly $12 billion in nationwide bridge assistance.
So Trump’s Nebraska number?
Pretty damn close.
Actually almost dead-on.
Point Trump.
But assistance payments also require context.
Sending billions of dollars to farmers is evidence that the government sent billions of dollars to farmers.
It is not, by itself, proof that American agriculture is thriving.
Sometimes relief money is evidence that something hurt badly enough to require relief money.
China
Trump said his dealings with China’s Xi Jinping would lead to dramatically increased purchases of American agricultural products.
Maybe.
But future tense is not a completed transaction.
A promise to buy is not a ship full of soybeans.
So this one goes in the:
We’ll see.
pile.
Call me when the soybeans move.
Beef
This one matters in Nebraska.
The administration moved to increase foreign beef imports as part of an effort to reduce consumer prices.
News Channel Nebraska’s Michael Shively confronted Trump about the policy and the criticism it generated from Nebraska ranchers.
Trump defended it.
His argument was basically:
- Beef prices are too high.
- Consumers need relief.
- The increased imports are temporary.
- American ranchers will ultimately benefit from the broader economic picture.
Now we’re in actual policy territory.
Consumers and cattle producers don’t necessarily have identical interests at every moment.
More supply can put downward pressure on retail prices.
It can also create legitimate concerns for domestic producers.
That’s not hypocrisy.
That’s economics being annoying.
The important part is that Trump didn’t pretend Nebraska ranchers loved the idea.
He defended the policy anyway.
I actually respect that more than pretending there is no tradeoff.
The Economy
Then we got the Golden Age.
Politicians love adjectives.
Golden.
Historic.
Unprecedented.
Disastrous.
Worst ever.
Best ever.
Those aren’t economic indicators.
They’re marketing.
If you want to tell me we’re in a Golden Age, give me the metrics.
Jobs.
Wages.
Inflation.
Productivity.
Household debt.
Housing affordability.
Farm income.
Manufacturing.
Then let’s talk.
Presidents love whichever graph makes them look like Jesus with a calculator.
The opposition prefers whichever graph makes America look like Somalia with a Costco membership.
Reality is usually considerably less cooperative.
A national economy can have strong headline numbers while individual households are getting their asses kicked by groceries, housing, fuel or debt.
Those things can exist at the same time.
And there was an interesting tension in the rally itself.
We’re in a Golden Age.
Also, diesel prices are such a problem that we’re taking emergency action.
Maybe both are defensible with enough context.
But the context is doing some heavy lifting.
Five Thousand Dollars
Trump also floated a $5,000 dividend for adult Americans if Republicans retain control of Congress.
That got attention.
Of course it did.
Five thousand dollars is five thousand dollars.
I have a Snap-on guy.
But a proposal is not a check.
Congress controls federal spending.
The exact eligibility rules matter.
The funding mechanism matters.
The total cost matters.
Whether Congress actually passes anything matters.
So until there is legislation with actual numbers attached to it:
Don’t spend it.
And for the love of God, don’t tell Snap-on you’re good for five grand.
Immigration
Immigration was everywhere in the rally.
Border security.
Crime.
ICE.
A fatal Nebraska crash.
The Senate race.
Here’s where I land.
A country has a right to enforce its borders.
Immigration law is real law.
So is due process.
Immigrants are human beings.
So are victims of crimes committed by people who are here unlawfully.
You don’t have to erase one of those truths to acknowledge the other.
That tragedy deserves to be discussed honestly.
It also doesn’t become an entire immigration policy by itself.
If you want to argue policy, show me policy.
Show me numbers.
Show me outcomes.
Don’t hand me one tragedy and tell me it contains every answer.
Dan Osborn
And then we returned to Democrat Dan.
Same problem I had with Ricketts.
Democrats didn’t nominate a Senate candidate.
Democratic-aligned groups support him.
National Democrats want Ricketts beaten.
Osborn says he won’t caucus with either party.
Those are facts.
If Republicans want to argue his policies make him effectively Democratic?
Make the case.
But repeating Democrat Dan until the adjective becomes the biography isn’t the same thing.
For the record:
I’m supporting Dan Osborn.
That does not make him immune from this process.
My guy doesn’t get a free pass either.
Mail-In Voting
Trump’s relationship with mail voting has been…
complicated.
For years he attacked mail ballots as inherently suspicious.
Now Republicans are increasingly encouraging their voters to use them.
And Trump himself has acknowledged that mail ballots can be fine.
Good.
Welcome aboard.
Voting methods shouldn’t become trustworthy or untrustworthy depending on which party thinks it benefits that year.
Then Trump Did Something Politicians Rarely Do at a Rally
He signed an actual policy action.
Right there.
At the rally.
Part of me hates this.
Because government isn’t a game show.
Executive actions aren’t fucking raffle prizes.
Part of me also understands exactly why he does it.
It’s television.
It’s tangible.
It’s a politician saying:
I’m not just telling you what I’m going to do. Watch me do something.
That is politically powerful.
Again:
You don’t have to like the guy to understand why the technique works.
Here’s the Pattern I Found
After spending hours going through Trump’s speech, I kept seeing the same categories.
Sometimes the claim was basically true.
Sometimes the claim was true but exaggerated.
Sometimes a real accomplishment got more presidential credit than one person deserved.
Sometimes several true facts got mashed together into a story that wasn’t actually true.
Sometimes he had a perfectly defensible argument and then kept talking until he damaged it himself.
Sometimes the claim was about something that hadn’t happened yet.
And sometimes?
The son of a bitch was right.
That shouldn’t be politically controversial.
Reality doesn’t appear particularly interested in maintaining brand consistency.
Specificity Is Kryptonite to Partisan Bullshit
This may be the biggest lesson I took from the whole thing.
Political rhetoric gets stronger when details disappear.
They jailed a farmer for fixing his tractor.
Okay.
Who?
What was he charged with?
What statute?
What did the indictment say?
What did he plead guilty to?
They gave farmers half a billion dollars.
Okay.
Which program?
How many farmers?
Which crop year?
How much actually reached Nebraska?
Dan Osborn is a Democrat.
Okay.
Is he registered as one?
Did Democrats nominate him?
Will he caucus with them?
Or are we talking about donors and ideological alignment?
The more specific you get, the more work everybody has to do.
And the harder bullshit becomes.
And This Is Why People Believe Him
Monday reinforced something that gets lost almost immediately online.
The people outside that building weren’t cartoons.
Neither side was.
Supporters and protesters were people.
Nebraskans.
Neighbors.
People with mortgages.
Jobs.
Kids.
Fuel bills.
Grocery bills.
Opinions.
Some loud.
Some angry.
Some assholes.
Mostly people.
Trump talks about things they actually experience.
Fuel prices.
Farm equipment.
Farm economics.
Grocery prices.
Distrust of government.
The feeling that Washington doesn’t give a shit about them.
Then he gives them an explanation.
Sometimes the explanation holds up.
Sometimes it needs context.
Sometimes it’s bullshit.
But if your entire answer to his appeal is that the people listening to him are idiots, you’ve probably identified one of the reasons they stopped listening to you.
Which Takes Me Back Outside
I started Monday at 5:30 in the morning staring at a post about Pete Ricketts that had been shared more than 300 times.
That post convinced me to take my own advice.
Go look.
Go listen.
Stop diagnosing the truck from across the parking lot.
So Kate and I took the afternoon off.
We registered.
We walked to Fonner Park.
We didn’t get in.
We watched supporters.
We watched protesters.
We watched security.
We watched the presidential visit unfold over Grand Island.
Kate wore a blue shirt that said MEGA MEAT SALE and somehow managed to offend people simply by existing in the wrong color shirt with the wrong four letters.
We saw ordinary people on both sides.
Nobody reenacted Gettysburg.
Then we went home.
And I watched the speeches.
Then I researched them.
And the world got more complicated.
Good.
It probably should.
I Still Loathe Donald Trump
This isn’t a redemption arc.
I didn’t watch one rally and suddenly order a red hat.
I still have plenty of reasons to dislike Donald Trump.
But I don’t need Donald Trump to be wrong about diesel fuel to justify disliking Donald Trump.
I don’t need Pete Ricketts to lie every time he opens his mouth to oppose him.
I don’t need Dan Osborn to be right about everything because I support him.
I don’t need every Republican to be evil.
I don’t need every Democrat to be stupid.
I don’t need the person across the street to be my enemy.
And neither do you.
Facts Don’t Owe My Opinions Loyalty
That’s the whole experiment.
If the evidence proves somebody I dislike is right?
Fine.
He’s right.
If somebody I support says something stupid?
Fine.
It was stupid.
If a claim is technically true but leaves out the part that changes what it means?
Then we’re going to talk about the missing part.
And if there isn’t enough evidence to know yet?
Then I will say the three words political media seems increasingly allergic to:
I don’t know.
That’s not weakness.
That’s the beginning of finding out.
So What the Hell Is Moore 2 the Story?
I think Monday answered that for me.
I’m not neutral.
Never claimed to be.
Neutrality isn’t the goal.
Fairness is.
I’ll have opinions.
I’ll swear.
I’ll make jokes.
I’ll get pissed off.
I’ll tell you when I think something is bullshit.
But I’ll also show you why.
Receipts.
Sources.
Context.
And when the evidence changes the conclusion, the conclusion changes.
There is always the headline.
There is the narrative.
There is what Republicans want you to believe.
There is what Democrats want you to believe.
There is what social media decided happened six minutes after it happened.
And then there’s usually…
Moore 2 the Story.
I’m a mechanic.
A Marine.
A father.
A writer.
A citizen.
Professional fuck-around-and-find-out practitioner.
Monday was supposed to be a field trip.
Turns out it was our first assignment.
We just didn’t know it yet.
Read the series:
Part One: Inside the Circus · Part Two: What They Told Us · Part Three: Donald Trump
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