Elon Musk and the DOGE That Couldn’t Bark: A Spending Bill Tale

When history books crack open the chapter on 2025, it’s likely to start with something like this: “In an unexpected turn of events, Elon Musk, government efficiency czar and part-time Martian, clashed with Donald Trump, president, real estate magnate, and part-time Twitter gladiator, over a spending bill so bloated it made a Kardashian wedding look frugal.”

Musk, the tech world’s favorite billionaire-slash-provocateur, had been handpicked by President Trump to lead the Department of Government Efficiency—an acronym that was either a deliberate joke or an unfortunate coincidence: DOGE. Yes, like the Shiba Inu meme coin that once had a higher market cap than several African nations.

The mission of DOGE, per Trump’s grand unveiling at a rally featuring pyrotechnics, bald eagles, and Kid Rock, was to “trim the fat, stop the swamp, and finally make America cost-effective again.” For a brief moment, it seemed possible. Musk promised to streamline bureaucratic waste, automate government filings using Neuralink, and perhaps even convert Congress into an AI-assisted Slack channel.

One Big Beautiful Breakdown

But that was before the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” barreled through the Capitol like a rodeo bull on Red Bull. This $4.7 trillion omnibus package was Trump’s crowning achievement in government largesse. It included funding for everything from a border moat filled with genetically engineered alligators, to gold-plated Air Force One upgrades, and a new line of steak-scented commemorative currency featuring Trump’s face on one side and a flexing bicep on the other.

Musk, who had been silently enduring months of DOGE’s internal dysfunction (think: turf wars between interns and Pentagon liaisons), finally spoke out.

“This bill undermines everything DOGE has been trying to do,” he said during an interview while sipping a Soylent espresso martini on his Tesla-designed hoverchair. “You can’t say you’re for efficiency and then shove a trillion-dollar hot dog of pork into the federal vending machine.”

Efficiency vs. Ego

To be clear, Musk is no stranger to government funding. SpaceX has munched on NASA contracts like they were breadcrumbs on a trail to Mars. But there is a difference, he argues, between investing in interstellar travel and allocating $2 billion for the Department of Patriotic Parade Planning.

The White House was unfazed. When pressed for comment, Trump told reporters: “Elon’s a good guy, a very smart guy, but sometimes he forgets who built the brand. DOGE was my idea. Just like Trump Wine, Trump University, and peace in the Middle East.”

Meanwhile, fiscal conservatives in the House squinted nervously at the bill, muttering phrases like “trillion-dollar tinsel” and “the ghost of Reagan weeps.” Democrats, for their part, criticized the bill for being “a capitalist fever dream with a marching band,” before promptly voting for it after a line item promising solar-powered gender-neutral outhouses in swing states was added.

The DOGE Days Are Over

DOGE was supposed to be the sleek Tesla of government departments: fast, efficient, able to self-drive America out of bureaucracy. Instead, it quickly devolved into the DMV of think tanks. By the end of the first quarter, DOGE had published exactly one white paper and commissioned three murals of Musk wearing a cape.

In his interview, Musk opened up about the internal chaos. “One time I asked for a report on Pentagon procurement. They gave me a 3,000-page PDF and a stress ball shaped like a drone. I still don’t know if that was irony or a threat.”

Some have speculated this rift marks the beginning of Musk’s political breakaway. Rumors swirl that he may launch an independent movement, tentatively titled “Technofiscalians,” which aims to blend libertarian economics with space colonization and extreme couponing.

A Government Powered by Contradiction

And therein lies the rub. The bipartisan tragedy of American politics in 2025 isn’t that one side is evil and the other is pure. It’s that both parties have learned to speak fluent contradiction. Trump can promise efficiency while signing a bill thicker than Melania’s prenup. Democrats can decry authoritarianism while begging Musk to expand Starlink access to rural voting districts.

Even the media seems confused. FOX News ran a segment titled “Musk Betrays America,” while MSNBC labeled him “a neoliberal with rocket envy.” Over on Truth Social, someone posted a meme of Musk in a dog collar next to Trump feeding him checks labeled “Spending.” It received 14,000 likes and a subpoena.

What’s certain is that DOGE is now adrift. Its budget has been slashed by the very bill it tried to oppose. Most of its employees have resigned or transferred to the newly created Department of Artificial Patriotism. The DOGE Twitter account, once a bastion of cheeky budget advice, now posts cryptic memes of broken calculators and crying eagles.

In the end, the spending bill passed, the national debt soared, and Elon Musk went back to launching satellites and trolling public health officials. Trump declared it “the best bill anyone has ever seen” and hinted at appointing Kanye West to head a new Department of Vibes.

As for DOGE? It lives on, somewhere between a failed think tank and a punchline.