Yes, he really said it.
Ahead of the UFC Freedom 250 event on the White House South Lawn, Secretary of State Marco Rubio compared the upcoming spectacle to the Moon landing.
Speaking last week, Rubio reportedly praised the UFC’s bold vision and described the event as a historic moment reflecting America’s audacious spirit.
I must confess that I am struggling with the comparison.
In 1969, America celebrated scientists, engineers, astronauts and technological achievement. In 2026, a White House-hosted cage fight is being presented as a comparable national milestone.
The Moon landing involved years of scientific research, extraordinary engineering, international prestige and one of humanity’s greatest achievements.
The White House cage fight will involve two men arguing over whether eye-gouging should count as a technical knockout.
Still, perhaps Rubio is right. The similarities are obvious.
The Moon landing was watched by 650 million people around the world.
The White House fight will also be watched by people.
The Moon landing required the combined efforts of scientists, engineers, mathematicians, technicians and astronauts.
The White House fight will require a referee.
The Apollo program expanded humanity’s understanding of what was possible.
The White House event will expand humanity’s understanding of what can be held on government property.
Naturally, I was encouraged to ask whether the White House had solved any of the minor technical challenges associated with the Apollo program, such as orbital mechanics, rocket propulsion or mathematics.
According to my man in Washington, Rubio later clarified his remarks.
“The Moon landing proved America could put a man on the Moon.”
“The White House fight proves America can put a UFC octagon anywhere it wants.”
It is difficult to argue with such logic.
Indeed, White House officials are reportedly considering additional historical commemorations, including:
- A demolition derby to celebrate the signing of the Constitution.
- A monster truck rally marking the end of World War II.
- A pie-eating competition honouring the discovery of penicillin.
- A steel-cage match celebrating the invention of democracy.
President Trump himself is said to have welcomed Rubio’s comparison.
“People are saying this fight is actually bigger than the Moon landing. A lot of people. Smart people. The Moon is doing terribly right now. Nobody talks about it anymore. Very sad.”
There is, however, one final comparison worth making.
In 1961, President John Kennedy challenged America to land a man on the Moon before the decade was out.
Sixty-five years later, President Donald Trump has challenged America to determine whether a rear naked choke should be legal inside the Executive Branch.
History does not repeat itself, but it occasionally develops a sense of humour.
The Moon landing demonstrated the power of education, science, innovation and long-term national planning.
The White House fight demonstrates the power of a president having a birthday.
One giant leap for mankind has apparently become three rounds on the South Lawn.
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America bills itself as the entertainment capital of the world, and in this respect it ought to be acknowledged as relatively true. Relatively, that is, according to one’s definition of what the word ‘entertainment’ connotes.
Is it entertaining to read of Marco Rubio’s view that the upcoming slugfest between half-naked louts intent on bashing their opponents to within a scintilla of their respective lives is comparable to the moon landing of American astronauts in July 1969?
Depends on your POV, as in everything. Just because Rubio is the USA’s Secretary of State, it doesn’t automatically imply he’s a smart and intelligent man. He comes from Florida, after all, a state that also gifted American politics with the likes of Matt Gaetz and Ron DeSantis, and a state at the forefront of book banning, à la the behaviour of the Third Reich in the interwar years in Germany.
No doubt there will be some who refer to Rubio as a rube, that American term that refers to a person as being a yokel, someone not very intelligent or interested in culture. When Trump gifted Florsheim leather dress shoes to cabinet members, Rubio got a pair that were several sizes too large for his feet. Nonetheless, he wore them, uncomfortably it has to be assumed, presumably padded out with tissue paper, a sort of latter-day Charlie Chaplin clown for Trump’s amusement, clippity clop clippity clop, here comes my boy, how ya going, Marco? Thus, suitable humiliated, ramping up the sycophancy would seem the only way forward for the luckless Secretary.
Is it entertaining? Are blood sports entertaining? The Romans thought so with their colosseums and the savageries enacted within, animals vs. humans, gladiatorial fights to the death; hugely entertaining, apparently. Trump’s cruelties extend to mockery and infantile embarrassments according to his whims, who’s in and who’s out on a daily basis. He’s besties with the UFC guy Dana White apparently, so close that they piss in each other’s pockets on a regular basis, whether before or after they collectively count the millions raked in after each episode of barbarity; blood, sweat, phlegm and wanton violence having successfully replaced anything of virtue in that blighted land.
Give me the moon landing any day over a cage fight between a pair of knuckleheads; hell, I’d even stop to watch if they ever get to Mars.