WASHINGTON, D.C. — In a solemn ceremony that blended meteorological tradition with congressional theater, House Speaker Mike Johnson emerged from his Capitol Hill office burrow at approximately 7:15 a.m. this morning, squinted into the pale February sunlight, and reportedly caught sight of his own shadow cast across the marble steps. According to sources close to the Louisiana Republican, the sighting has officially triggered 12 more months of pretending to be a conservative. “Speaker Johnson peered out, saw the outline of his suit jacket against the wall, and immediately declared another full year of fiscal restraint, family values, and principled governance,” read a statement from his office, delivered in the same dry monotone used for continuing resolutions and debt-ceiling hikes. “We expect this shadow-induced conservatism to persist through at least the next election cycle, or until such time as a must-pass spending bill requires otherwise.” Meteorologists and longtime Capitol Hill observers noted that Johnson’s shadow appeared unusually crisp and well-groomed, a sign, they said, of prolonged posturing. “The contrast was stark,” explained one veteran reporter. “On one side you had the bright light of conservative promises; on the other, the long, dark silhouette of bipartisan compromise. Classic six-more-weeks-of-winter energy, but stretched to 365 days.” Critics were quick to point out that Johnson has seen his shadow nearly every year since assuming the speakership, a pattern some have dubbed “Groundhog Gridlock.” Last February, the Speaker emerged, spotted the outline of his own principles, and promptly presided over a record number of funding extensions described by allies as “bold conservative strategy” and by detractors as “kicking the can so hard it developed separation anxiety.” Progressive groups expressed cautious optimism that the extended conservative performance might eventually exhaust itself. “If history is any guide,” said one activist, “the shadow usually fades around the time a government shutdown looms and the base starts yelling about primary challenges. Then it’s straight back to sunshine, rainbows, and trillion-dollar omnibus bills.” For his part, Johnson remained stoic when asked about the prognosis. “The American people sent us here to do hard things,” he said, adjusting his glasses in a manner that suggested mild discomfort with direct sunlight. “And if seeing my shadow means another year of standing firm on the things we said we’d stand firm on until we don’t, then so be it.” Punxsutawney Phil, reached for comment via carrier pigeon, declined to weigh in, reportedly muttering something about “amateur hour in D.C.” before retreating to his professionally managed burrow with better lighting. The Speaker’s office has scheduled no further shadow-related events at this time, though aides confirmed a closed-door caucus meeting to discuss whether the shadow counts as an official “witness” under House rules. Happy Groundhog Day, America. Twelve more months of the same. The post Mike Johnson sees his shadow; means 12 more months of pretending to be a conservative appeared first on Genesius Times.

February 2, 2026 — Today's Conservative Cartoon

ST. PAUL, Minn. — In what aides are calling the most Minnesotan solution to an increasingly un-Minnesotan problem, Governor Tim Walz today announced the creation of MICE — Minnesota Immigration and Customs Enforcement — a new state agency tasked exclusively with deporting Americans who aren’t originally from Minnesota. “Look, we’ve tried polite requests, we’ve tried passive-aggressive notes on windshields, we’ve even tried offering free hotdish to go,” Walz said at a press conference held inside a nearly empty hockey rink, the only venue large enough to contain the irony. “But these folks from Illinois, California, Texas — they’re still here, clogging up our left lanes, mispronouncing ‘Minnehaha,’ and asking why we don’t have In-N-Out. It’s time we had our own enforcement arm.” Unlike the federal ICE, which Walz has spent months publicly urging to leave the state alone, MICE will be staffed entirely by lifelong Minnesotans: retired school bus drivers, former lutefisk festival volunteers, and that one neighbor who always knows whose dog got loose. Agents will wear navy blue Carhartt jackets embroidered with a discreet loon holding a deportation order and will be equipped with snow shovels (for dramatic effect), thermoses of coffee, and laminated cards explaining why “you guys” is not an acceptable substitute for “you betcha.” Under the MICE charter, any U.S. citizen whose birth certificate does not list a Minnesota county will be subject to immediate removal proceedings. Expedited deportation categories include: Anyone who moved here after 2010 and still complains about February. Drivers who use their turn signals more than 60% of the time (suspiciously non-native behavior). People who refer to “the Cities” as anything other than “the Cities.” Individuals caught ordering a salad at a potluck. Foreign nationals — especially those who have learned to nod appreciatively at the mention of tater tot hotdish and who never question the logic of ice fishing — will receive permanent protected status and a complimentary “Real Minnesotan” sticker for their vehicle. Walz defended the creation of a state-level deportation force by pointing to federal inaction on what he called “the real invasion.” “Washington keeps sending us people who aren’t from here to enforce laws we didn’t write,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the horizon where Wisconsin presumably begins. “So we’re handling it ourselves. MICE isn’t about cruelty — it’s about community standards. If you’re going to live in Minnesota, you need to understand that ‘sorry’ is a full sentence and that complaining about the weather is a privilege reserved for natives.” Early MICE operations are already underway in pilot areas. Reports indicate that agents have successfully removed several dozen Wisconsinites from the Twin Cities metro after they were observed tailgating without sufficient layers and referring to cheese curds as “those squeaky things.” Deportees are issued one-way Greyhound tickets to the state line, a care package containing a single can of Surly Furious, and a handwritten note reading, “Ope, sorry about this. Take care now.” Legal scholars have raised questions about whether a governor can unilaterally create a deportation agency targeting American citizens, but Walz waved off the concern with characteristic restraint. “We’ll figure out the paperwork later,” he said. “Right now the priority is getting these carpetbaggers back across the river before they start demanding bike lanes with actual paint.” The governor concluded by unveiling the MICE motto, printed on a banner behind him: “Minnesota Nice — But Not for Everyone.” MICE recruitment is open to any resident born in-state who can pass a three-question quiz on proper casserole-to-Jell-O salad ratios. Applications are being accepted at the nearest VFW hall. The post BREAKING: Walz launches MICE to deport ‘invading’ Americans out of Minnesota appeared first on Genesius Times.