How DOGE Shook Washington

Unknown Speaker

Alright, welcome back to The New Sentinel. It's Vinny Morelli here, your resident consigliere on the chessboard of American power, sitting across from Chijioke Eze—an actual strategist, not just someone who reads Machiavelli in the back room of a Jersey steakhouse. Today, we're diving into DOGE. No, not the meme coin—the Department of Government Efficiency, the Trump era’s answer to the question: “How fast can you bulldoze Washington red tape before the bulldozer runs out of gas?”

Chijioke Eze

Ah, Vinny, always painting with strong colors. You know, when this DOGE thing dropped, my WhatsApp groups in Lagos started buzzing—folks thought it was about cryptocurrency until they saw Elon Musk’s name. But this is not crypto. It’s bureaucracy speedrunning, American style. Executive Order 14158, with Musk at the helm, and the goal was simple—cut, slash, move. Less workforce, less oversight. Like they wanted to shock the federal machine awake by pouring cold water straight into the engine block.

Unknown Speaker

Yeah, and it wasn’t even a real agency. That’s the cute part. This was a pop-up operation, set up inside the U.S. Digital Service. Temporary, not permanent. Clock’s ticking—sunsets July fourth, 2026. These guys didn’t want jurisdiction. They wanted plausible deniability! I say, and I mean this, DOGE was built for results—not for justice, not for transparency, not for warm and fuzzy government. I saw something like this in Jersey once, at a sit-down that wasn’t about peace. Someone asked, “We want justice here, right?” The capo leans in, says, “Justice is for priests. We want results.” Same flavor, different decade.

Chijioke Eze

You see, that’s the trick: “results”—but whose? Because when you build something temporary, you can burn it all down without being stuck cleaning up. And I remember, in the army, when a general forms a so-called 'task force,' the old hands already start hiding their plates. Efficiency means somebody’s lunch is on the line. DOGE played that game—streamlining, outsourcing, firing—but, eh, sometimes the fastest way is not the cleanest way. My father used to say, “If you cut the bush too fast, you’ll cut your feet.”

Unknown Speaker

Exactly, Chijioke. So, you got Musk in the driver’s seat for 130 days—like giving nitroglycerin to a guy who already speeds. It put the feds on ice: deregulation, layoffs, massive executive push. But that—let’s be honest—put blood in the political water. Everybody on Capitol Hill wants a bite, which brings us to Congress. Shall we?

Chijioke Eze

Let’s march to Capitol Hill, then. Congress can’t host DOGE—not by law, not even with a handshake. But the principles, ah—they spread like wildfire: efficiency, cuts, deregulation. What happened next, Vinny? Every caucus, especially the Republicans, wanted to wear the DOGE badge, right?

Unknown Speaker

Absolutely. You got these informal DOGE Caucuses in both the House and the Senate—a bunch of suits bonding over spreadsheets, talking zero-based budgeting and fraud apps like they're selling miracle cures. The real action was in the bills—H.R. 3072, 2006, that Make DOGE Permanent Act—H.R. 3733. These are all moves to make those executive slashes stick in law. Rescissions Act of 2025? Passed the House, signed by Trump. Nine billion cut like it was pocket change. But the Dems, well, they showed teeth—BAD DOGE Act, opposition in the Judiciary, weekly oversight reports. They don’t want executive branch playing butcher in the dark.

Chijioke Eze

And the fights—eh, these fights remind me of an Igbo proverb: “If two brothers fight over a goat, the stranger eats the stew.” That’s Congress for you. You’ve Republicans pushing, sometimes admitting DOGE’s “massive exaggeration” on savings but wanting it permanent anyway. Democrats fighting to slow the train down—transparency bills, oversight, trying to repeal. In the end, while they are squabbling, services break down and the public debt grows. Everyone busy fighting over the goat; meanwhile the real problems—like the 38-trillion-dollar national debt—are eating what's left on the fire.

Unknown Speaker

And don’t forget, the other shoe: Rescissions, using reconciliation so you don’t need 60 votes in the Senate. Squeeze through the budget, take out NPR, PBS, foreign aid. You see the same play in the Senate—DOGE caucus, similar bills, just a little slower because of filibuster rules. But the heat stays on. You got Elizabeth Warren sending her own $2T savings plan, talking big cuts but also calling out overreach and chaos. Everybody’s playing position, but nobody’s doing cleanup. Meanwhile, DOGE’s not even a thing in Congress, formally. It’s like fighting a ghost that keeps moving the furniture.

Chijioke Eze

On the street, and on X, everyone’s counting numbers, not the mess. DOGE promises one trillion in savings, but—if I’m honest—there’s enough wiggle there to drive an old Okada through. Exaggeration? Sure. Service breakdowns? Plenty. Legal pot holes, ethics alarms, and remember, after Musk’s 130 days and abrupt exit, folks were already questioning who was steering the ship. Operational mistakes left marks that will last. The sharpest machete cannot clear a thorn bush if you’re swinging blind.

Unknown Speaker

Yeah, yeah—here’s the part people miss: oversight and transparency bills are supposed to keep the knives clean, but in practice they get gummed up. Senate drags their feet, Warren’s trillion-dollar plans go nowhere, and the whole legislative codification thing is stuck in the mud after that marathon shutdown. It’s bad enough when the cuts are rough—but like my old friend Frank Costello said, “Don’t mistake a sharp cut for a clean one—the streets, and the voters, remember the mess.” And voters, they got memories like elephants when it comes to services getting wrecked.

Chijioke Eze

That’s the heart of it. Outsiders look at the numbers, the savings. But those living with the impact—they feel the cuts, the delays, the chaos. In Nigeria, we say, “A goat does not bite, but if you step on its tail, you will get a reaction.” Right now, voters, activists, whistleblowers—they’re reacting, fast, loud, and global. All it takes is one viral post, and suddenly your efficiency crusade is a trending punchline. DOGE may not survive to its sunset date if the fire keeps burning this hot. But in Washington, even ghosts have lobbyists, so nothing is ever really finished.

Unknown Speaker

That’s the way it goes, Chijioke. Power plays, half-clean cuts, plenty of noise for the headline writers. The only certainty is this: you can fool Congress, sometimes even the courts, but the public? They remember the mess when the dust settles and the next shutdown rolls around. And you can bet, the next fight's already brewing. But for today, the DOGE story ends right here.