So, folks, big news this week: Judge Juan Merchan has just told Donald Trump, in the most elegant legal terms possible, “No, buddy, you can’t presidential immunity your way out of this one.” I mean, the guy tried to argue that his hush money payment to Stormy Daniels—the Stormy Daniels—was somehow part of his official presidential duties. Really? Was there a clause in the Constitution about keeping your sex scandals under wraps? “To secure domestic tranquility… and silence adult film stars”?
Let’s rewind for a second. This all started in 2016, when Trump, in full campaign mode, decided that the best way to protect his image as the ultimate family values guy was to funnel $130,000 to Daniels through falsified business records. Which is, you know, how everybody handles their personal dramas—just like Thomas Jefferson probably did when he invented the Declaration of Venmo.
Fast forward to May 2024, and Trump becomes the first former U.S. president to be convicted of a felony. Historic! You know, they always say to leave a legacy, and Trump’s out here setting records. But then, in July, the Supreme Court drops a decision granting immunity for official acts of presidents, and Trump’s legal team goes, “Aha! This is our chance!” Their argument? Paying hush money was basically like signing a treaty. Except, instead of averting war, it was about avoiding a tell-all book.
But Judge Merchan was not having it. He dropped a 41-page decision—41 pages! That’s like Tolstoy for lawyers—explaining that hush money payments to cover up extramarital affairs are not, in fact, presidential duties. Shocking, I know. Turns out, “Making America Great Again” didn’t include a line item for “bribing someone to keep quiet about my private life.”
The ruling means Trump’s conviction sticks, which is huge. He’s now heading back to the White House as the first U.S. president with a felony conviction. Not exactly the kind of historic first they’ll be celebrating at the Library of Congress. “And here we have President Trump’s plaque—right next to Nixon’s ‘Tricky Dick’ section.”
Now, there’s some debate about what happens next. Do we delay sentencing? Does he get house arrest? Can he serve the nation and clean the White House bathrooms as part of his community service? The possibilities are endless! But whatever happens, the guy’s got to walk into office knowing there’s an asterisk next to his name that reads, “Oh, and by the way, he’s a convicted felon.”
That said, we’re not out of the woods yet. Sentencing is still hanging over our heads like one of those chandeliers Trump keeps in his hotels—gaudy, heavy, and full of potential danger. Whether or not Merchan hands down a penalty that actually sticks remains to be seen, but today was a step in the right direction. It’s like seeing the first crack in a dam. You can’t celebrate yet, but you know the water’s starting to flow, and the system is working. For now, at least, Merchan showed us that accountability is still alive and kicking—and maybe, just maybe, there’s hope yet for this rollercoaster of a democracy.
