Will Elon take away Trump’s grey check on X?
At first, there was laughter. Smiling photos, jokes between billionaires, promises whispered in the secret language of power: the language of favors. Elon Musk, the Martian engineer, the tycoon who plays Prometheus with rockets and algorithms, offered himself to Trump as an unpaid economic advisor. Free of charge, like the devil in old tales. The richest man in the world at the service of the most powerful man on Earth. What could possibly go wrong?
Everything, of course.
Because ego doesn’t negotiate. Ego devours.
And when two egos as bloated as Musk’s and Trump’s collide, it’s not a train wreck—it’s a cosmic crash.
For a few months, the alliance seemed solid. Trump, thrilled to have the “genius” of Tesla on board; Musk, excited by the idea of redesigning an empire as if it were the latest SpaceX model. But power is not something you share—not even among titans. The old alpha male, Trump, soon reminded everyone that he was not a fan of electric cars. Nor of mandates. He refused to sign a law that would force Americans to buy electric vehicles, even if they hated their silence, their weight, or their lack of gasoline scent and “freedom.”
Elon’s smile began to crack.
And the man who once dreamed of Mars now dreams of watching Washington burn.
Because since then, the war has begun. First came the subtweets, then the jabs, and this week, nuclear bombs in the form of posts: Musk insinuating that Trump was part of the Epstein network, and that’s why the investigation has never seen daylight. Not just a grave accusation, but one surgically crafted to destroy reputations.
Trump, as always, fired back with a cocktail of cynicism and rotten testosterone. He accused Musk of throwing a tantrum over the unsigned “electric law,” called him a madman obsessed with forcing Teslas down people’s throats even if they preferred their old Cadillacs. And, like any good emperor, he threatened to pull federal contracts. “Not another dollar for your rockets, Elon.”
Elon, true to his style of genius-child with a thirst for vengeance, replied that he would begin dismantling the Dragon spacecraft. Like a boy breaking his most expensive toy in the middle of a tantrum—not for lack of love, but for an excess of spite.
But this, folks, is not just politics or economics.
This is another chapter in humanity’s oldest conflict: narcissism vs narcissism. Unchecked power vs meaningless power. Two men who accept no limits, and no affection unless it comes in the form of worship. Two giant boys playing with matches in front of a gas station.
Psychologically speaking, what we’re witnessing is a war between terminal narcissistic egos. Where the other is not an ally or an enemy, but a mirror—one that reflects a distorted image of the self. And when the reflection stops flattering, the mirror must be broken. And the other, too.
Meanwhile, the world watches. Applauds. Gawks. Mocks.
And sinks just a little deeper into madness. Because these battles are not symbolic—they move markets, shift political decisions, shake up international treaties. They affect reality, as a clash between Zeus and Hades would—if Olympus had social media.
And now the question keeping us up at night:
Will Elon take away Trump’s grey check on X?
Gentlemen, please:
Don’t fight.
Don’t feed the madness of the world.