Adam Kinzinger

Adam Kinzinger

Trump’s “Piggy” Moment Exposes the Cruelty; MTGs Exit May Not Be So Honorable

Trump reveals himself once again, and don't get too excited over MTG's goodbye

Adam Kinzinger's avatar
Adam Kinzinger
Nov 24, 2025
∙ Paid

Video for paid subscribers at the end

“Quiet, piggy.”

This command — sneering, aggressive, and wholly intentional — came from President Donald Trump, who seems to lose control a little more each day. The setting was Air Force One. His target was Bloomberg News reporter Catherine Lucey. His audience was a plane full of journalists who, in the moment, did nothing.

Some commentators have criticized Trump after the fact, but too few have examined his motives or the mindset he revealed.

Start with the obvious: Trump set out to degrade and humiliate a woman in front of her professional peers. A “pig” is the dirtiest animal in the barnyard, raised to be slaughtered — four-legged food for humans. Calling a woman a pig reduces her to meat, in the most literal and dehumanizing way.

In ordering Lucey to be quiet, Trump was venting anger but also exposing his nasty, sexist inner adolescent. This is a man who has always viewed women as objects to be controlled or abused. At 79, he still carries the echo of playground cruelty in his mind.

And this wasn’t a one-off. Long before he became president, Trump publicly feuded with Rosie O’Donnell, calling her a pig. He hurled the same insult at former Miss Universe Alicia Machado. He has labeled women “dogs,” and infamously referred to Stormy Daniels — with whom he had an extramarital affair while his son Barron was a newborn — as “horseface.” Daniels, of course, later exposed Trump’s cover-up attempts.

Lucey became his target because she dared to ask about the release of investigative files related to sexual super-predator Jeffrey Epstein — a convicted sex offender who died in jail while awaiting trial on new charges. And Epstein was not just an acquaintance of Trump. They were close for years. They partied together, flew on private jets, and even held a private swimsuit competition they judged together.

Evidence of this smarmy relationship includes an obscene birthday card Trump drew for Epstein and recently released emails. Among the Democratic-released trove was one suggesting Trump knew Epstein was recruiting “girls” for sexual services. Another referred to Trump as “the dog that hasn’t barked,” implying there is evidence yet to emerge tying him to the broader scandal and cover-up.

The case that Trump is the true “pig” here also includes more than 20 credible accusations of sexual assault, as well as his defeat in the civil suit brought by writer E. Jean Carroll, in which a jury found him liable and ordered him to pay $83 million in damages.

And of course, there’s the infamous Access Hollywood tape from 2016, where Trump brags about sexually assaulting women — “they let you do it” — because he’s “a star.”

Back then, Trump’s defenders insisted it was just “locker room talk.” Having spent a lot of time in locker rooms myself, I can tell you that’s not true. Mature men do not talk this way. But Trump is not a mature man.

This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

This time, his chief defender is Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt, who excused him by saying Trump “gets frustrated with reporters” and added that he is “the most transparent president in history.” Rep. Maria Salazar (R-FL) chimed in on TV, calling him “picturesque and difficult,” before shrugging, “No one is perfect.”

I actually agree that Trump is transparent — perhaps too much so. Maybe that’s why Lucey’s colleagues on Air Force One froze. Perhaps his constant barrage of vulgarity has numbed them. Perhaps some feared he’d retaliate by cutting off access. But none of that excuses silence in the face of a blatant verbal assault.

Under normal circumstances, a person who behaved this way would feel shame and apologize. But these are not normal circumstances, and Trump is no normal man. He is a cruel, sexist narcissist whose depravity has become so routine that it now takes something extreme for people to remember who he truly is.

Piggy is as piggy does.

Marjorie Taylor Greene Resigns — But Not for the Reason You Think

Marjorie Taylor Greene announced over the weekend that she’s resigning from Congress, and for many of us who served with her, the news lands with a strange mix of relief and inevitability.

During my time in the House, I watched her operate up close. She never apologized for suggesting the United States was responsible for 9/11. She never took responsibility for harassing the parents of murdered schoolchildren. She never showed remorse for screaming at President Biden during the State of the Union or for stalking and berating a colleague because her daughter is transgender. To this day, she still insists January 6 was a government setup — a conspiracy theory so warped it manages to insult both the victims and the truth.

So when Greene stepped to the camera to announce her resignation, some wondered: Had she finally seen the light?
Of course not.

Her stated reason was that Donald Trump — the man she wrapped her identity around — was “not MAGA enough.” Not the extremism. Not the cruelty. Not the circus she brought to Congress every day. Her farewell wasn’t an apology; it was a complaint that the revolution she tried to lead wasn’t pure enough for her liking.

In the end, the chaos she helped unleash came for her, just as it’s coming for the rest of the GOP.

And while I genuinely hope she finds peace, makes amends, and begins to unspool the damage she’s done — I won’t pretend I’m not also enjoying the collapse of the party she worked so hard to radicalize.

This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Share

Video for paid:

User's avatar

Continue reading this post for free, courtesy of Adam Kinzinger.

Or purchase a paid subscription.
© 2026 Adam Kinzinger · Privacy ∙ Terms ∙ Collection notice
Start your SubstackGet the app
Substack is the home for great culture