The Ballroom Defense Budget

I am a thrift man, patriots, which is why I oppose waste right up until a chandelier learns to say “security infrastructure.” Then suddenly my freedom math says the public purse must open like a church potluck, because nothing protects a nation quite like polished floors, velvet ropes, and a room where important people can feel defended by appetizers.

Now, I am not saying every fancy room is a bunker. I am saying if a ballroom counts as security, then my backyard grill upgrade is basically missile defense with brisket. That is the beautiful trick of government language: the luxury does not get cheaper, safer, or more necessary. It just puts on a hard hat, salutes the flag, and mails the bill to people eating meatloaf at the diner.