SNL GOES NUCLEAR ON TRUMP AFTER HIS BIZARRE “GOD IS PROUD OF ME” CLAIM — WEEKEND UPDATE LEAVES NO SURVIVORS
Donald Trump stunned Washington after declaring that God was “very proud” of his presidency, a statement delivered with such confidence that it instantly blurred the line between political bravado and outright self-mythology. What might have passed as hyperbole in another era instead landed as a surreal moment that left critics speechless, supporters nodding, and comedians racing to respond. Within days, Saturday Night Live seized the moment—and turned it into a blistering takedown.

The comment came during a press appearance meant to celebrate Trump’s first year back in office, but it quickly overshadowed everything else. Trump suggested divine approval as casually as listing economic achievements, framing it as if heavenly endorsement were just another credential. In a political landscape already saturated with exaggeration, the claim stood out for its audacity, triggering widespread disbelief and immediate backlash across media and social platforms.
That disbelief became fuel for SNL’s Weekend Update, where Colin Jost and Michael Che transformed Trump’s words into a sharp, layered satire. Jost opened by imagining what a “God-approved” presidency would actually look like, painting a picture of Oval Office meetings that resembled a reality show finale rather than a seat of government. The humor worked because it didn’t exaggerate Trump’s claim—it simply took it seriously and followed the logic to its absurd conclusion.
By framing divine approval as a résumé bullet point, Jost exposed the fragile ego beneath the statement. The jokes suggested that this wasn’t about faith or spirituality, but about validation at the highest possible level. The idea of God watching approvingly from the sidelines, like a celebrity judge cheering on a contestant, struck a nerve because it mirrored Trump’s long-standing need for applause, loyalty, and spectacle.
Michael Che then shifted the focus toward JD Vance, whose suggestion that protesters should write op-eds instead of marching became another target. Che dismantled the idea by comparing it to telling people in a burning building to calmly submit feedback. The joke landed hard because it reflected a deeper truth: a political class increasingly uncomfortable with public dissent and eager to replace action with polite silence.

As the segment unfolded, the contrast became impossible to ignore. Trump’s worldview placed himself at the center of the universe, important enough to receive divine praise. Vance’s perspective treated protest as an inconvenience to be managed, not a democratic necessity. Together, the two formed a portrait of power disconnected from lived reality—one obsessed with validation, the other allergic to disruption.
What made the SNL segment resonate wasn’t just the laughter, but the underlying critique. Jost and Che never lectured. Instead, they let the absurdity speak for itself, using humor as a mirror that reflected the strange theater of modern politics. Each joke built on the last, turning comedy into a narrative about ego, authority, and the growing gap between leaders and the public.
By the time the laughter faded, the message lingered. This wasn’t just a roast of Trump or Vance—it was a commentary on an era where spectacle often replaces substance and satire feels closer to truth than official statements. In going “nuclear,” SNL didn’t just mock a bizarre claim. It captured why so many Americans are laughing, uneasy, at a political moment that increasingly feels stranger than fiction.