A storm was perched over DC for Fight Night. And just like that, the storm went around DC as if commanded by God Himself…

The UFC event at the WH was spectacular. It was like the Super Bowl of fighting, and the commercials alone were worth the price of admission. The UFC event at the White House was spectacular—Super Bowl of striking and grappling, where the commercials alone delivered more knockout value than most fight cards.

I read this tweet about the event:

Remember when Obama joked that Donald Trump would never be President and Trump hit back by strategically dismantling the entire Democratic Party over a 10 year period culminating with a UFC Fighter announcing that Michele Obama is a man.

And how about that Marine Corps BAND! Super Bowl of elbows and egos, where even the commercials could knock you out. And that Marine Corps Band? They didn’t just play—they dropped the national anthem like it owed them money. And they played all the music, and truly shocked me with how good they were.

I won’t spend a lot of time on this, but I will say that watching fighters showcase their abilities and sportsmanship was something to behold.

It was a toxic masculinity extravaganza. And every one of the fighters thanked President Trump for the event.

I felt like it was Roman times without all the death and sex.

Shout out to the new Secret Service too. Not one single “mysterious” incident where Democrats could try their annual tradition. Smooth, professional, and apparently allergic to letting history rhyme. Refreshing.

Speaking of Leftists, let’s take a breath and examine the exquisite contradictions of the modern Left.

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