Every January, amidst the flurry of broken resolutions and leftover holiday pie, journalists predict the events of the coming year. They gaze into their crystal balls, which seem to be as murky as the bottom of their cold coffee cups, and conjure up forecasts that manage to be as spectacularly wrong as their fashion choices. At the Daily Wire, however, they take a different approach. Rather than pretending to know the unknowable, they’ve embraced a more honest method: making things up and crossing their fingers that reality doesn’t disappoint.
Take the cinematic scenario imagined for March 2026. In this blockbuster prediction, a tarantula the size of the Chrysler Building descends upon New York City. One might think the locals would panic, but no, they welcome it as a diversion from Mayor Zoron Mdani’s questionable policies. Enter President Donald Trump, brandishing a bedazzled sword straight out of Glenn Beck’s rather eclectic armory. With a single swing, he saves the day, much to the dismay of Democrats who, naturally, denounce his arachnid aggression. They spend the rest of the month attempting to empathize with the tarantulas while nursing their own bites, courtesy of the spider’s less-than-friendly relatives.
Over on The View, a special episode is dedicated to confronting the supposed history of bias against tarantulas. Things take a turn for the comedic when a guest tarantula crawls across Sunny Hostin’s hand, leading to a shriek so prolonged that it rivals any talk show intro music. Elsewhere, Barry Weiss faces backlash for crushing a tarantula with her high heel, a move that nearly disrupted a 60 Minutes exclusive. Even Candace Owens weighs in, quipping about divine creation with her characteristic sass, inadvertently poking the proverbial hornet’s nest—or in this case, the spider’s web—of controversy.
In a bizarre twist of the cultural landscape, Netflix’s chief content officer decrees that streaming content must reflect certain demographic combinations, leading to plot lines that twist logic into pretzels. When the inevitable public backlash causes viewership to plummet, she channels classic Hollywood, blaming the audience’s shrinking presence rather than her own misguided decisions—before dramatically retreating, depending on how shaky her future with Netflix seems.
On the political front, Minnesota’s governor decides it’s time to bow out, having overseen the tumultuous times with remarkable, if not questionable, achievements. And echoing a theme of the absurd, Democrats gain the House only to seek the impeachment of Trump, presumably over the gall of fostering global peace and prosperity—atrocious, indeed.
In a grand finale worthy of its own mockumentary, the Senate stands firm while Chuck Schumer, with a theatrical flair, reassures that big government is here to stay—it’s the people who’ve shrunk. As he steps off the proverbial stage, the hypothetical giant tarantula takes a bow of its own, proving that in the great theater of politics, sometimes the most unimaginable scenarios provide the best satire.
