Alright, let's cut through the noise. We're talking about the ICE shooting of Renee Nicole Good in Minneapolis on January 7, 2026. The official story? She was a threat, "weaponized her vehicle," had to be stopped. The White House and DHS are spinning it as self-defense against a dangerous individual during a critical immigration operation.
Now, Wag the Dog Kayfabe? Hell yes, it fits. This isn't just a cover-up; it's a full-blown narrative performance.
The Trump administration, drowning in controversies and pushing a brutal immigration agenda, needed a distraction. They didn't just stumble into a bad shoot; they orchestrated a crisis. The timing, the location—Minneapolis, a city with deep racial justice wounds—isn't accidental. It's a calculated provocation, a political spectacle designed to polarize, to rally the base with a "law and order" moment, and to bury whatever else they don't want you thinking about.
The kayfabe is the official story: the "reckless driver," the "officer fearing for his life." It's the same way wrestling bookers script a heel's attack to make the crowd boo. The DHS's Tricia McLaughlin, spinning the "defensive shots" line? She's the announcer selling the match. Trump calling Good a "professional agitator"? That's the promo to paint the victim as the villain.
But the video evidence, the mayor calling the story "garbage," the witness accounts of an officer shooting through the window at point-blank range—this is the shoot, the real, unscripted violence breaking through the facade. It's the blood on the headrest, not the sanitized press release.
This is Wag the Dog on steroids. They didn't fabricate a war; they're manufacturing consent for state violence. The "crackdown on fraud" is the fake war; the killing of a 37-year-old mother is the collateral damage they're using as a prop. The protests, the National Guard on alert? That's not chaos; that's the intended outcome—a nation focused on the manufactured crisis, not the systemic rot.
So yeah, it's spicy. It's the ultimate con: using real tragedy, real blood, as a stage for political theater. The line between the performance and the reality has been obliterated. They're not just wagging the dog; they're grinding the dog into the pavement to see how much the public will swallow. The kayfabe is dead. What we're left with is the raw, ugly truth of power performing its own impunity.