Behind the Trump Administration’s ‘Vibe-Diplomacy’ Idiocy

By Ghost of HST
April 23, 2025

Ken Fisher, one of the wealthiest asset managers on Earth, recently went on CNBC and confessed something that would’ve sunk a lesser man. He looked directly into the camera — managing nearly $200 billion in client assets — and said, with a smirk, “I have no idea what Nvidia does, and I don’t care.”

This is not a joke. It is not performance art. It’s a billionaire openly admitting that he doesn’t understand the most valuable tech company in the world — the one powering artificial intelligence, cloud infrastructure, the future of computation itself — and that he bought in anyway, because, hell, the line was going up. It’s the kind of thing you expect from your cousin’s crypto plug, not from someone whose firm could buy a medium-sized country before breakfast.

And yet, it landed with barely a ripple. Because in 2025, this kind of reckless arrogance isn’t an outlier — it’s a prerequisite. Ken Fisher isn’t dumb in spite of his success; he’s dumb because the system has been engineered to reward exactly this kind of blind faith in the market gods. His confession wasn’t humiliating. It was aspirational.

Of course, no discussion of aspirational stupidity would be complete without invoking the true high priest of the movement: Donald J. Trump, President of the United States (again). If Ken Fisher is the gentleman moron of American finance, Trump is something else entirely — a blaring foghorn of uninformed confidence, echoing across the Republic like a dying bird call that somehow gets louder every year.

While Fisher may not know what Nvidia does, Trump famously asked if we could use nuclear weapons to stop hurricanes. He once claimed the Revolutionary Army took control of the airports in 1776. He thinks the moon is part of Mars. He stared into a solar eclipse with his bare eyes and thought it was a show of dominance.

None of this is news to readers of this site. We’ve been living in the fallout since January 20, when the dumbest man to ever hold the office was sworn in again — not in shame, but in triumph. A coup not of violence, but of sheer idiocy. This isn’t some fringe conspiracy or ideological grievance. It’s the simple, horrifying truth: the American people knowingly put a man with the intellectual curiosity of a swamp raccoon back in charge of the nuclear codes.

And the tragic part? No one expects intelligence anymore. We expect vibes. We expect grievances. We expect the occasional burst of viral gibberish on Truth Social or a glazed-over stare while a general tries to explain how NATO works. We’ve been trained to see competence as elitism and basic comprehension as suspect. If you read a book, you’re probably in the deep state.

So when Ken Fisher shrugs and says he doesn’t know what Nvidia does — he’s not making a mistake. He’s performing the modern ritual of power: saying the quiet dumb part out loud, and daring you to care.

That’s what this era runs on. Not oil. Not data. But the weaponization of obliviousness. The unearned confidence of men who’ve never had to face a real consequence in their lives. Ken Fisher doesn’t care what Nvidia does. Donald Trump doesn’t know how government works. Elon Musk doesn’t understand that comedy has rules. And somehow, they keep winning.

We laugh. We post. We mock them in little bursts of cathartic clarity. And then we refresh the feed and it starts all over again.

“This feels like déjà vu all over again,” Yogi Berra once said — and he meant it as a joke. Now it reads like prophecy. Because this isn’t new. It’s just dumber than before, and dressed up with better buzzwords. A man in a $6,000 suit — who controls more money than some countries — can admit on air that he has no clue what he’s investing in, and it’s not a scandal. It’s engagement. It’s content.

A simulation? Elon Musk thinks so. He’s said there’s only a “one in billions” chance we’re in base reality. That if any civilization develops the ability to run lifelike simulations, they won’t stop at one. They’ll build millions of them — billions, maybe — and the odds say we’re inside one now.

You don’t need quantum physics to believe it. You just have to open your eyes. You just have to watch a man in a $6,000 suit — who controls nearly two hundred billion dollars in client assets — smirk on national television and admit he has no idea what the world’s most important tech company actually does. And no one pulls the plug. No one even blinks.

This is not an outlier. It’s the business model. A late-stage symptom of the profound stupidity movement — a cultural renaissance where knowing less is a flex, and admitting it is how you win.

And no one embodies it more fully, more proudly, more grotesquely than its Grand Poobah: Donald J. Trump.

And no, the stock’s not always going up. Tesla’s earnings just dropped seventy-one percent from last year. But don’t worry — the insiders already sold. The simulation doesn’t reward intelligence. It rewards proximity to the escape hatch.

How dumb is this guy?

Dumb enough to never learn. Dumb enough to say it out loud.
But just smart enough to read the room — to sense the rage, the loss, the dislocation — and sell it back wrapped in his own name, sprayed gold, and spelled wrong.

And if all this feels scripted — if it feels like you’ve been here before, if the background NPCs are repeating their lines, if the simulation is glitching right in front of your eyes — don’t worry.

You’re not crazy.
Something you’ve known for years has finally become undeniable.

Filed from a doom-centric psychedelic traveling circus where Elon thinks he’s Player One, Trump’s hogging the PA system, and the rest of us are stuck on loop as NPCs.