Neuralink in his brain linked to his cars.
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Let’s hear RFK Jr’s advice. What could go wrong? 
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Great overview of what may be his descent. The author seems to a person named Mary Geddry.
There was the now-infamous video of Trump guiding Musk through a phone call like a camp counselor helping a dazed camper dial home. There was the cutlery balancing act at a $1 million dinner where Musk looked one flick away from losing it entirely. And in what might be the most poetic metaphor of all, he recently posted about his child being named “Romulus,” like some delusional Caesar preparing for the empire he believes he’s birthing.
Something is unraveling. And it’s not just the tweets or the silence between them.
It’s the illusion.Musk has spent years branding himself as the heir to Tesla, Edison, Einstein. A polymath. A disruptor. The man who sees what others can’t. But strip away the performative chaos, and you’re left with something simpler, sadder, and far more dangerous: a man whose intellect never quite matched his ambition. A clever simpleton with a limitless budget and a fear of being irrelevant.
He’s never published a single peer-reviewed scientific paper. He has never once submitted himself to the scrutiny of the intellectual giants he so desperately quotes. He doesn’t converse with theoretical physicists, economists, or ethicists. He doesn’t stand shoulder to shoulder with people like Neil deGrasse Tyson or Noam Chomsky. Because he can’t. He avoids real thinkers for the same reason con men avoid accountants. He knows they’d see straight through him.
Instead, he surrounds himself with influencers, sycophants, and meme accounts with usernames like @basedbillionaire420. His most frequent dialogue partners are glorified podcasters and ideology hucksters who mistake YouTube virality for epistemology. The closest Musk comes to rigorous debate is retweeting his own fans. He clings to buzzwords like AI, neural linkages, and colonization, not to explore them, but to weaponize them. He’s built a mythos out of citations without substance, soundbites without systems. Elon doesn’t think. He performs thinking for people who don’t know what it looks like.
The myth has worked for a time. It helped him seduce investors, dazzle politicians, and surround himself with a cult of followers who think “being a genius” is just a matter of posting faster than the fact-checkers can keep up. But now, the genius mask is slipping. Because a real genius would not be caught frantically spinning plates while the empire starts to collapse.
A real genius wouldn’t build a breeding program before fixing basic quality control at Tesla. A real genius wouldn’t need NDAs to keep the mothers of his “legion” children from speaking out. And a real genius, this is important, wouldn’t run from oversight.
Because Musk isn’t just avoiding dialogue with scientists. He’s avoiding Congress too. Despite repeated public claims about exposing billions in government fraud and waste via DOGE (his Department of Government Efficiency), he has not once testified under oath. Not a single verifiable document has been produced to back his claims. There’s no audit trail, no savings ledger, no fraud trail, just slogans and accusations and influencers like Libs of TikTok cheerleading his every move.
He accuses others of fraud, but when it’s his turn to present the receipts, he flees. Because, like every grifter before him, Elon Musk can only function in a world of suspended disbelief. The moment he’s forced to prove something to defend it in the presence of real thinkers, real lawyers, real legislators the show collapses.
And it’s starting to. What’s become painfully, grotesquely clear, is that Musk doesn’t want to fix humanity. He wants to replace it. Preferably with his own DNA.
Thanks to an astonishing Wall Street Journal exposé, we now know that Musk has fathered at least 14 children with four women (likely more), and that many of those children exist under a tightly controlled web of nondisclosure agreements, hush-money arrangements, and financial pressure campaigns orchestrated by his Mormon consigliere and money-handler, Jared Birchall. Musk refers to these children as his “legion,” a term he lifted from Roman military history because apparently even his reproductive delusions have a branding strategy.
the rest
He reportedly texted one mother, Ashley St. Clair, a 26-year-old far-right influencer, that they’d need to “use surrogates” to reach legion-level before the apocalypse. Yes, that is an actual sentence from a man who oversees federal efficiency policy. He also offered her $15 million in hush money and $100,000 a month in exchange for secrecy, until she declined and went public. Then he slashed her support in half, and then in half again. Because nothing says “visionary genius” like using your children as bargaining chips in a PR containment strategy.
What’s more disturbing is that this isn’t an isolated incident. Musk has reportedly propositioned multiple women on his platform X, some of whom he had never met, inviting them to carry his offspring like it’s a patriotic duty. It’s pronatalism turned personal, eugenics with a X handle. He doesn’t just want more babies, he wants more Musk babies. More obedient, brilliant, legacy-carrying vessels for his ego. And when the women refuse? They’re silenced, unfollowed, discredited, or quietly disappeared from his feed, along with their X revenue.
This isn’t quirky behavior. It’s a pattern of reproductive coercion backed by wealth, legal firepower, and platform control. It’s not romantic it’s imperial. He’s not building a family, he’s seeding a colony.
All of this, we’re told, is in service of a greater mission: to make humanity a “multi-planetary species.” But who gets to board the rocket? People with the right bloodline? People who signed the NDA? It’s not just about escaping Earth anymore. It’s about curating the next iteration of humankind, one baby bonus at a time.
Meanwhile, here on Earth, the agency Musk actually does run, the Department of Government Efficiency, is allegedly doing something far more terrestrial: breaking into federal labor data.
According to a whistleblower named Daniel Berulis, DOGE may have improperly accessed sensitive files from the National Labor Relations Board, which just so happens to be investigating Musk’s own companies for unfair labor practices. This isn’t a subplot, it’s the real story. Berulis claims that DOGE tampered with audit logs, disabled security protocols, and accessed over 10GB of confidential information, including union strategies and affidavits. Soon after, attempted logins were traced to a Russian IP. And because no Musk scandal would be complete without the flavor of international espionage, there it is like a little dash of kompromat sprinkled on top of the labor abuse sundae.
The man who says he’s saving the human race is under scrutiny for stalking unions, buying silence from mothers, dodging oversight, and deploying federal power for personal gain.
We are describing a dictatorship and it doesn’t stop at data breaches. Musk is also waging a one-man propaganda war from his platform, reposting lies with the same casual authority he uses to launch rockets. Just days ago, he amplified a baseless post from the QAnon-adjacent account “KanekoaTheGreat,” accusing Kilmar Abrego García, a legal resident deported in defiance of a court order, of being an MS-13 gang member and domestic abuser. No court ruling. No due process just trial by meme.
The smear was intended to justify the Trump administration’s illegal deportation of García, who remains imprisoned in El Salvador despite multiple federal orders to bring him home. Musk, facing his own firestorm of personal scandal, reached for the MAGA panic button: demonize an immigrant, distract from the headlines, and rally the base with a lie. It’s not just cruel, it’s strategic cruelty, the kind that bullies use when they know they’re bleeding and need to make someone else bleed louder.
So while his baby mothers file court motions and the NLRB locks down its servers, Musk is busy tweeting that he’s “#2 after Trump for assassination” and that “only the paranoid survive.”It’s not just that Elon Musk is spiraling, it’s that he’s spiraling alone.
The White House reportedly wants nothing to do with him. Chief of Staff Susie Wiles blocked his request for a permanent West Wing office. Administration insiders describe him as toxic, erratic, exhausting. Even Trump, who once boasted that Musk was his “genius in residence,” is reportedly ready to cut him loose. And why wouldn’t he be? Musk’s presence now brings more baggage than brilliance, more lawsuits than loyalty. He’s less an asset and more a liability with a launchpad.Grimes, the avant-pop oracle of Musk’s former mythos, now says her custody battle with him left her bankrupt. One of Musk’s own children, Vivian, has disowned him entirely. His fixer, Birchall, spends his days corralling lawyers and re-negotiating NDA terms. And the women he used, discarded, and tried to silence are no longer staying quiet.
Even his empire’s foundation, the illusion of genius, is cracking. Tesla sales are plummeting. FSD remains a safety hazard masquerading as software. X is a hate-mongering money pit. Neuralink is terrifying precisely because of who’s running it. And the only thing holding it all together is the hope that the myth still dazzles someone, somewhere, long enough to keep the stock price afloat.
The myth is dying. A real genius doesn’t fear Congress. A real genius doesn’t suppress women, stalk unions, and smear immigrants when cornered. A real genius doesn’t flee from scientists. Hell, he even cheats at video games. A real genius stands for something beyond himself, but Musk does not.
He isn’t a futurist, he is a narcissist with a rocket. He is not solving existential threats, he is one. He doesn’t want to save humanity. He wants to own its legacy and rewrite its origin story in his image.
And this is the great fraud of Elon Musk. He promised us Mars but gave us a martyr complex. He promised innovation but delivered intimidation. He promised genius, but all we got was a man terrified of being irrelevant, surrounded not by visionaries, but by influencers with merch stores and MAGA hats.
So when history writes this chapter, it may not remember Musk as the next Einstein or Tesla. It may not even remember him as the next Trump. It’ll remember him as a cautionary tale, of how easily a society can mistake noise for knowledge, flash for substance, and buzzwords for brilliance. The emperor has no spacesuit.
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These people need a Cyberstuck.
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Apparently they just got one.
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Yay. It’s the least we can do.
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(excerpt) Innovation needs failure. All progress is built on learning from past failures and mistakes.
I’m not quite sure if the statement’s contextualization could be applied to the Cybertruck. If the museum’s goal is to positively illustrate the role of failure, that being a necessity, effectively being the mother of innovation, then the take-it-or-leave-it attitude of the Cybertruck’s unrepentant absent father should disqualify the truck from being displayed as a worthy example of the price of success. That said, maybe a special wing could be made to house the truck now there. Sign at its entrance: …BUT, THEN THERE IS THIS.
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I must look her up!
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Looks to me like he has a stiff neck and shoulders and is trying to stretch it out. I do similar things all the time.
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Yes, I thought the same after watching that 14-second video. I hate the dude too, but I also recognize that if he’d been sitting for a long time, or sleeping, it’s not odd to think that he might walk stiffly while stretching out some kinks like that. I smell clickbait.
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Musk acting out of it and erratic isn’t news anyway, it’s his whole thing. When he actually overdoses enough that he has to take a break from ruining the world for everyone, or his corporate enablers finally drop him, then I might be interested.
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Oh hey, cool. I haven’t listened to Revolutions in a year or so, and I thought it was all done after the Russian revolution. Heading back to it!
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