Elon Musk Forgot That He Never Was
- john raymond
- Jun 6
- 3 min read
Elon Musk forgot. Not just the details—though those are many and damning. He forgot the whole premise. He forgot that he was never what the world was sold. He forgot that “genius” was a brand label, not a diagnosis. He forgot that his power wasn’t earned, that his ideas weren’t innovative, and that his role in the global order was not to lead but to serve—serve those who needed a figurehead, a hype man, a hallucinated icon of techno-utopia. He forgot that he was always the frontman for someone else’s capital, someone else’s ideology, someone else’s war.
Musk forgot that the myth of Elon was constructed—not discovered. It was not brilliance but narrative engineering. He was the poster child for libertarian billionaire chic, a package of arrogance wrapped in futurism and drug-enhanced word salad. He was lifted not by merit, but by subsidy, by apartheid emeralds, by Russian money, by the cold investments of authoritarians who found in him the perfect mix of recklessness, naiveté, and social media addiction. He was a pliable creature. A loud idiot on a tall podium, saying just enough crazy to keep the chaos moving and the attention stuck.
He forgot that “his” companies were built by engineers whose names he doesn’t remember. That his tweets weren’t strategy but destabilization. That every time he opened his mouth to declare a truth, it was another man's whisper echoing through him. Peter Thiel. Vladimir Putin. Dark money networks with dark goals. Elon wasn’t their equal—he was their tool.
And nowhere is this clearer than in the debacle of his recent break with Donald Trump. Elon, in a moment of hallucinatory self-belief, turned on the monster. He called Trump out. He criticized the “Big Beautiful Bill.” He acted like he had the moral high ground. And that, right there, is the proof of forgetting. He forgot that he wasn’t the kingmaker. He was just a court jester with a lot of crypto and an AI fetish. He forgot that he never supported Trump with his money—he supported Trump with money given to him by people far more sinister. Putin’s pals. Tech barons with God complexes. Hedge funds with fascist leanings. Not one dollar came from his own soul, because Musk doesn’t have one dollar to spare.
He forgot that Trump, for all his incoherence, was actually president. He held power. He was a tyrant with a military. Elon? Elon just has a website. And a fanbase. And a pile of memes. When the empire of grift began to wobble, Musk thought he could steer it with a tweet. What he discovered—too late—is that the ship never answered to him.
He is not the captain. He never was.
And now, as the myth collapses, it collapses inward—imploding on its center of nothing. Because at the heart of Elon Musk is not innovation. Not genius. Not vision. At the heart of Elon Musk is a vacuum. He is an empty husk stuffed full of marketing slogans and aspirational lies, paraded in front of the desperate masses as a messiah of progress. But he was never that. He was the C-student who outsourced the homework. The burnout who showed up high and called it "thinking outside the box." The rich kid who took credit for the group project. And when history turned, when power shifted, when reality knocked, he answered with nothing. Because there was nothing to answer with.
And that’s how we know he forgot. He forgot that he never was. And now, the world remembers.
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