⚠️ SATIRE DISCLAIMER (NOW WITH AGE RESTRICTIONS):

 This is a fictional rant in the unmistakable voice of George Carlin, written as political satire. If you’re a Supreme Court justice who thinks robes make you immortal—or a 91-year-old senator who just drooled on your voting record—this one’s for you.

George Says: “THE TERM ACT? ABOUT FUCKING TIME.”

That’s right. Somebody finally took a look at the Supreme Court and said, “Hey, maybe it’s a bad idea to give people a lifetime of unchecked power based on how well they could answer questions during one awkward week in their 40s.”

Eighteen years. One term. No do-overs. No second life as an unelected god-emperor in a robe.

You serve. You go home. You write a memoir no one reads. Done.

Because let’s be real here. If you can’t serve your full term without dying, maybe you shouldn’t be serving at all.

 And don’t tell me “the Founders intended lifetime appointments.”

 Yeah, they also intended muskets and powdered wigs.

George says: Your intentions don’t mean shit if the rest of us are stuck living in your unintended consequences.

And staggered appointments every two years?

 Beautiful. Regular turnover. Like oil changes for democracy.

 No more death watches. No more “Please, Justice Fossil, hang on until we get a president who’s not foaming at the mouth.”

 Just structure, fairness, and a system that doesn’t depend on luck, death, or RBG holding off cancer like it’s a fucking video game boss.

But George says: If we’re cleaning house, let’s not stop at the Supreme Court.

Oh no. That brings us to our brand-new, imaginary-but-should-be-real piece of legislation:

The WRINKLE Act

 (We’ve Really Inflated Numbers of Known Legislative Elders)

Because let’s face it: some of the folks in Congress are so old they still think TikTok is the sound their pacemaker makes.

 They’ve got opinions about internet policy and no idea how to turn on Bluetooth.

 They think Venmo is a new kind of sexual disease and that Google is a verb for witchcraft.

George says: You shouldn't be writing the laws of tomorrow if you can’t program a coffee maker today.

So here’s the deal:

• You hit 80? Congrats, you're now in the “Advisory Lounge.” That’s right. Free snacks, no votes.
• You’ve served more than 24 years? Go the fuck home.
•  Start a podcast. Write angry emails to the editor. Buy a garden.
•  But get out of the goddamn Capitol.

Because when the average American can’t afford to retire at 67, it’s a bit fucking rich that a 90-year-old senator is still “considering his options.”

George says: Democracy isn’t supposed to be a gerontocracy.

 It’s not “rule by the oldest and crustiest.”

 It’s supposed to be government by the people—not the same people since Reagan was still acting surprised about Iran-Contra.

So yes—TERM Act? Hell yes.

And while we’re at it, pass the WRINKLE Act.

 Because the future should belong to people who still have one.

George out.

 And if you want a country that isn’t run by cryptkeepers and cultists, start demanding laws that come with expiration dates.