The Daily Horror of Feather Pillows and Filtered Light
I know, who cares, right? But I am amazed at the times elites shed their cloak of immortality to touch us unwashed with their awesomeness.
Barbra Streisand is “horrified every day.” That’s what she told the press when asked about Donald Trump’s return to the White House. Not concerned.
Not skeptical.
Not disapproving.
Horrified.
What causes such daily despair?
She didn’t say a policy.
She didn’t cite a single bill, executive order, or speech.
No, her source was a report from Senator Cory Booker.
That’s it.
Her portal into our cruel, chaotic reality is a talking-point generator from New Jersey who hasn’t passed a meaningful piece of legislation since before most of Gen Z could drive.
This is enough to send Barbra into an emotional tailspin while sipping tea in one of her oceanfront mansions.
The self-parody writes itself.
Life Behind Castle Walls
Streisand doesn’t live in America. She lives above it in a private California compound with a mall-sized basement, Italian marble, velvet walls, and a rose garden bigger than most public parks.
She has personal staff, imported linens, climate-controlled wine cellars, and zero risk of encountering the average American citizen unless one of her assistants screws up the valet queue.
Yet from within this kingdom of yes-men and glistening countertops, she feels qualified, no, compelled, to speak about “chaos, cruelty, and corruption.”
She’s horrified?
Try standing in line at a pharmacy in Tulsa for medication your insurance just stopped covering.
Try watching your daughter’s softball game get canceled because of rising gang violence in your neighborhood.
Try surviving three years of Bidenomics, where egg prices doubled, and energy bills climbed so high they ate into mortgage payments.
Barbra wouldn’t last a week in a swing-state apartment complex, let alone a Stevens Point grocery aisle.
What the Rest of Us Call Cruelty
Streisand sees cruelty in Trump’s tweets. The rest of us saw cruelty when:
- Afghan children fell off C-17s during Biden’s botched withdrawal.
- Parents were labeled domestic terrorists for questioning school boards.
- Truckers and construction workers were fired for refusing to get vaccinated.
- Cities like Portland and Minneapolis were allowed to burn in the name of “justice.”
- Crime surged, and leftist mayors told victims to “check their privilege.”
- Gas prices hit $6 in California, while the administration suggested EVs smugly.
- Veterans died on waiting lists for care while illegal aliens were given hotels, iPhones, and debit cards.
- Young men and women died from fentanyl overdoses, and the press yawned.
Where was Barbra’s horror then?
Nowhere.
Silent as a Beverly Hills butler.
The Gospel According to Cory
Her source of intel is Cory Booker, a senator so soaked in stagecraft he could cry on cue for a shampoo commercial.
Booker speaks in a fog of motivational platitudes. “Hope is the active conviction that despair will not have the last word,” he once said. If that sounds like something you’d find crocheted on a throw pillow at a Barnes & Noble, you’re not wrong.
Barbra takes her worldview from Booker's blurbs and then speaks as though she’s been wandering the ruins of civilization with a clipboard and a flashlight.
Her “evidence” of Trumpian cruelty isn’t sourced from legislation or policy briefings. It’s secondhand dread from a man who mistakes emotion for governance.
She’s not just misinformed. She’s willfully uninformed and deeply comfortable staying that way.
She Sees Chaos, We See a Comeback
Let’s define chaos properly. Under Biden, chaos wasn’t metaphorical. It was physical, economic, and spiritual:
- Chaos was 2 million illegal crossings at the southern border in a single year, flooding towns, collapsing services, and letting cartels flourish.
- Chaos reigned during the school lockdowns, as millions of children fell behind in reading, math, and social development while politicians partied mask-free.
- Chaos was the defunding of police, which led directly to rising murders, assaults, and theft across once-safe suburbs.
- Chaos was marked by small businesses closing forever while Amazon’s profits soared, and lockdown hypocrites ordered gourmet takeout from chefs in gloves.
But what happened the moment Trump returned in January 2025?
The market started to stabilize. Gas prices began to fall, especially after Trump reopened energy leases and reduced EPA red tape. Border crossings dropped once Trump reinstated Remain in Mexico, restarted the wall, and brought ICE back to the forefront.
Cities?
Police budgets increased. Morale returned. Even Democrat mayors stopped pretending crime was a social construct. Real prosecutions returned. People who commit felonies are once again being treated like felons.
And guess what?
Streisand hates that.
Luxury Horror vs. Reality
To Barbra, “cruelty” is Trump using the word “loser” in a sentence. But she’s never worried about overdraft fees, rationing groceries, or checking gas mileage before deciding whether to visit your mom in hospice.
Real Americans were gutted under Biden’s watch.
And for those years, Barbra was quiet.
Maybe humming a show tune. Maybe baking a second tray of truffle-topped fingerlings. Certainly not protesting the weaponization of the DOJ, the censorship of dissent, or the targeting of faith-based groups.
The only “chaos” she knows is what happens when her Wi-Fi drops during a Spotify meditation playlist.
The Celebrity Bubble is a Punchline
Streisand represents a particular breed of celebrity, a pre-Internet progressive monarch whose worldview is a quilt sewn from Vogue covers, filtered news, and cocktail-party sermons.
She still thinks she speaks for “the people.” However, she doesn’t shop at the same places we do.
She doesn’t drive what we drive.
She doesn’t hear what we hear.
She doesn’t have to sit in an ER waiting room on a Saturday night, wondering if she’ll be billed five grand for an X-ray and a shrug.
And she certainly didn’t build a career on working-class empathy. She built it on ballads, box sets, and the echo chamber of Hollywood privilege.
The fact that she thinks she can lecture anyone on cruelty, corruption, or chaos is almost sweet, like watching a cat think it can drive.
Final Thoughts
Barbra Streisand is horrified, not by injustice, not by cruelty, not by moral collapse. She’s horrified by resistance to the narrative she prefers.
She’s horrified that Trump dares to lead again, that average Americans dared to vote against the machine, and that flyover country dared to speak for itself.
She didn’t weep when cities burned under Antifa, when moms were censored at school boards, or when gas tank totals looked like mortgage payments. But Trump returns to office, and suddenly, it’s the end of the world?
The only chaos she knows is when the massage therapist arrives late.
Barbra doesn’t speak for the country. She doesn’t even speak for California. She speaks for the gated echo chamber, the virtue-signaling cocktail crowd, and the class of elite detachment that thinks tweeting the word “horrified” is the same as making a point.
Meanwhile, Trump is doing what presidents are supposed to do: restoring sanity, enforcing the law, and undoing the mess left by those who mistake opinion for moral authority.
And Barbra? She can keep shrieking from her gilded, safe room.
The rest of us have work to do.
