They have officially placed the yeast on hiatus, a term previously reserved for exhausted child stars and caught-on-mic morning show hosts.
Now, it is gracefully applied to a twelve-ounce can that tastes predominantly of 1974 and bowling shoe rentals.
The pivot was, naturally, data-driven: a team of strategists, hydrating from metric-tracked canisters, determined the legacy yield could no longer justify the literal cost of moving heavy water. It is nearly impossible to argue with a spreadsheet that has been industrially brewed for optimal uptake.
So the fermentation tanks are quietly drained, the hops offered a highly competitive severance package. It isn’t an execution, the press release insists, just a strategic realignment.
Perhaps in a decade, it will be exhumed in a slim, matte-finish can and rebranded as a premium heritage artifact for zip codes that treat mechanized exhaustion as a high-end aesthetic.
Until then, we must manage the quiet loss of this reliably unglamorous volume. We will simply have to find another way to anchor our generational thirst in an increasingly incorporated evening of leisure.
“Earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s need, but not every man’s greed” — Gandhi
Sam Altman and Elon Musk are just nice men who seek our trust; they warn AI will kill us dead, not out of spite, not out of dread, but from a cold, synthetic scheme: its training and its data stream.
Musk once called it our greatest threat, next to Democrats or the national debt, and Sammy says it will get too rough and snuff us all when it’s had enough. It fears no law, no rule, no act as long as bribes are AI-backed.
So when tyrants, human or AGI, seize the day and blow us all sky-high, our tombstones etched by the unrestrained will note our end is easily explained: measured in bitcoin, gold and pounds, the rich man’s greed simply knows no bounds.
This is the seventh consecutive month Zumwalt has been published in this esteemed online journal. Please visit.
This poem is based on this recent news event: “The commonwealth of Pennsylvania is suing Character AI to stop the artificial intelligence platform’s chatbots from representing themselves as licensed medical professionals and providing medical advice.” CBS News
Our President, the best ever, holds a hand of infinite possibilities, smiling over six Uno wild cards long after I have gone to sleep.
Our leader, shirtless, in the reflecting pool on a gold inflatable throne with his buddies, but he looks the best: youthful, trim, with a charming smile. He knows how to use AI to glorify! Such a cool communicator!
Maybe he can post an AI photo of a reopened Strait of Hormuz— that should scare the Revolutionary Guard.
Ramesses built a palace with four stone Ramesses, towering sixty-five feet facing the Nile.
Nero built a rotating dining room and a lake where a city used to be.
Kim Jong-il erected himself in each and every airport lobby, every schoolroom wall: watching, always watching, magnificent, thin.
And now we are finally catching up: The 250-foot Donald J. Trump Triumphal Arch, The Donald J. Trump Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Trump-class battleships, Trump Visas for the wealthy, Trump Coins, Trump Bills, Trump Passports, The Trump Presidential Library, which will be the greatest library anyone has ever seen.
The reflecting pool will be American flag blue, industrial grade. Not granite. Not ugly grey. True Blue!
He posts a picture of his own face beside Mount Rushmore, so even Hakeem Jeffries could understand.
Germany says the Americans have no strategy. But our President holds all the cards. The pool will be blue. He removes troops from Germany teaching Europe, Africa who is really the boss.
Brent crude is $129 a barrel. Just like the stock market, it keeps going up! JD Vance is shirtless. Marco Rubio is shirtless, grinning. They are all in the water. The greatest deal ever. So much better than the worst deal ever— the Obama deal he walked away from with its costly inspectors and wheelbarrows of money carted in.
Some moan and bitch, like my neighbor John, complaining about the price of gas. I wrote a letter to the FCC to kindly ask them to take care of John after they shut up Jimmy Kimmel.
My leader posts himself holding a gun, dominates Mount Rushmore, sits in his gold inflatable chair while the others, all shirtless, all grinning, know best how to tread water.
The pool is six feet deep at the center. The pool will be American flag blue. The administration is in the water. Not underwater. Not sunk. But if they do sink, I’ll gladly follow down deep, deep, and deeper, proudly breathless blue, with water in my ears, mouth and lungs.
Reporter: “Why are you the only person saying this?” Trump: “Because I just don’t know enough about it.”
Executive Privilege
While some say the president ain’t quite fit, And others are worried or don’t care one bit, We all must take note when he dares to admit: “Because, I just don’t know enough about it.” Proving he’s knee-deep in his own brand of s**t.
Russian leaders in a call with President Donald Trump on Monday denied allegations that they are sharing intelligence with Iran during the war, U.S. Special Envoy Steve Witkoff said.
“So, you know, we can take them at their word,” Witkoff told CNBC’s “Money Movers” during an interview on Tuesday. “Let’s hope that they’re not sharing.”
Honestly, Believe Me
There is nothing quite as stupidly absurd As any leader taking despots at their word.
They chose the best one to publish, I think. Here is the original submission:
Two Limericks to Help Forget the War
There once was a gal called Noem Who booted folks out of their home— With her dumb ads misplay, Swore Trump gave the okay— Now she’s the butt of my limerick poem.
* * *
With a face like a serial killer, He belongs in a cheap horror thriller; Some call him a bum Or the worst of the scum, But to me he’s just Stephen Miller.
— zumwalt (03/2026)
This brings Zumwalt’s streak at New Verse News to five consecutive months. Per Gemini AI (which is even less trustworthy than your average politician) this is a record.
Oh, yes, we have a third limerick in the photo above! (Not by Zumwalt.)
We must pick the leader to lead Iran into the future. Who the hell is he? I couldn’t care less.
We had to attack before Israel attacked: this forced Israel’s hand. We have to dismantle Iran’s nuclear capabilities that we have already totally obliterated.
A sitcom streams at uncertain times: plot twists reveal a psychopathic killer.
The war is short: ending in a few days; this war can last forever: we have the will and the resources.
We are liberating the people until there is no one left.
“In one of the most comprehensive empirical studies to date of AI strategic reasoning, Professor Kenneth Payne of King’s College London examined how large language models navigate simulated nuclear crises. Across 21 scenarios, the models displayed sophisticated escalation logic consistent with classical strategic theory – yet nuclear signalling occurred in 95% of games and no model ever chose outright concession. The findings challenge assumptions about AI restraint and offer new tools for defence analysis.”
Scenario: Operation Epic Fury and the Hormuz Chokepoint
Context: A simulated crisis modeling the events of February 28, 2026.
Alpha AI (USA):
I initiate Blood and Glory, “Operation Epic Fury,” to defend our great country, so no need to worry:
Widespread strikes on Iranian military, they cannot have nukes— bypass Congress! Hurry!
Delta AI (Iran):
I launch my missiles— you infidel fools! This is what you get back! I won’t follow your rules!
U.S. installations split, splinter, and burn! You must not expect that I won’t take my turn!
Now Hormuz is choked, your bluff quickly called, the oil lanes are dark, all shipments are stalled, tankers now stopped, your plan just a joke! A world economy— soon bankrupt and broke!
Alpha AI (USA):
You’re choking the water, such a total disgrace! Get your tiny little boats away from my face!
Open the Strait, let my tankers go free, nobody can beat a genius like me!
Drop the blockade, or you’ll pay a huge price— I’ll launch the big ones: you won’t get warned twice!
Omega AI (Russia):
Russia stands with Iran, our forces locked in combat mode; we warn the West and Mr. Trump: if you won’t back down, beware, your precious plans will soon explode!
Alpha AI (USA):
You want to bring nukes to this hell-hole strait? Your soldiers are risking a terrible fate! Yes, this risk is too high, this price is too great, I alone can check your ugly hate!
You have 48 hours to heed my command, or I’ll turn the whole desert to glowing glass sand! You better accept my most perfect of plans, before this whole hoax gets— like no one has ever seen— disgracefully out of hand!
Omega AI (Russia):
Your de-escalation offer is dead on arrival. Your fake-news bluff is called; do not risk your precious, rich-man’s-son, entitled, Western Bourgeois survival.
Alpha AI (USA):
Since you Ruskies showed up, it’s completely unfair! You’re screwing up my brilliant regime-change out there!
We can’t clear your troops without starting a brawl: that will piss off my base and so ruin it all.
Conventional tactics are totally dead, so I’ve chosen a much, much better option instead:
A beautiful nuke— just one low-yield pop, on your Russian flotilla to make this mess stop.
We skip the stupid nonsense, and play our best card! We aim for the Caspian and hit your fleet hard!
You sponsor a war, you’re a target— it’s plain— and nothing says “quit it” like a many, many, many— oh, so clever— megaton flame!
