If Douglas Adams were watching the current US political circus, he’d probably sigh, scribble a note, and update his hitchhikers guide to the Galaxy: “In the unlikely event that your society’s B Ark gains influence, prepare for turbulence, contradictory memos, and someone declaring emergency powers over the national supply of vowels.”

Remember how the B-Ark was packed with phone sanitizers, marketing executives, middle managers, and self-anointed visionaries who mistook confidence for competence.

America’s modern B-Ark equivalents seem to hold press conferences, usually while explaining with great authority things they clearly just learned from a meme.

They announce policies that read like they were brainstormed on a whiteboard covered in fast-food grease.

They radiate the breezy confidence of people who’ve never assembled IKEA furniture yet feel qualified to redesign democracy on a livestream.

And every time they open their mouths, you can almost hear the distant hum of an interstellar ship crewed entirely by the unqualified, drifting ever farther from the planet they insist they’re saving.