
Florida Man Finally Finds A Job: Ron DeSantis Signs On To Teach 'How To Be The Main Character' Masterclass
TALLAHASSEE, FL – In a move that has absolutely no one surprised except maybe his own pollsters, Ron DeSantis has announced his next career move: a high-impact, low-accountability, totally-not-a-lame-duck-gig as the lead instructor for “The Main Character Academy,” a new online course promising to teach Americans how to “dominate the narrative, own the libs, and never, ever, ever apologize for anything, even if you’re wrong.”
The press release, which was almost certainly written by a 22-year-old intern on Adderall, boasts that the course will feature “exclusive, never-before-seen footage of Governor DeSantis staring directly into a camera while a single, tearful, but also strangely defiant, bald eagle flies in slow-motion behind him.” It also promises a module on “how to respond to a press conference question about a hurricane by immediately pivoting to a rant about Disney World’s bathroom policy.”
Let’s be real, America. This is the most on-brand pivot since a Kardashian turned a sex tape into a billion-dollar empire. DeSantis, fresh off a presidential campaign that was less “winning” and more “watching a man slowly realize his own brand of culture war is a losing strategy outside of the Florida panhandle,” has found his true calling: teaching others how to be the absolute worst version of themselves, but with a shiny, professional veneer.
The course curriculum, leaked to this reporter via a burner phone that was definitely not a Nokia brick from 2005, is a masterclass in narcissism. Module 1: “The Art of the Grift: How to Turn a Culture War Into a Fundraising Email.” Module 2: “Picking Fights You Can’t Win (But Getting Paid Anyway).” Module 3: “The ‘Don’t Say Gay’ Method: How to Use Minority Groups as a Political Football Without Actually Saying You Hate Them (Just, You Know, Kinda).” And the final exam? “Successfully blame a migrant crisis on a cartoon mouse.”
The internet, predictably, did what the internet does best: it absolutely devoured him. The announcement post on X (formerly Twitter, because Elon must own the algorithm) got ratio’d so hard that it’s now legally considered a victim of domestic violence. Comments ranged from the predictable “LOL” to the more creative “This is the final boss of ‘main character syndrome’ and he’s trying to sell you the strategy guide.” One user, who clearly has a therapist with a PhD in this specific brand of nonsense, wrote, “He’s not even a main character. He’s the side villain who monologues for too long and then gets defeated by a plot hole.”
And they’re not wrong. Remember when DeSantis was supposed to be the “future of the Republican Party”? The guy who was going to beat Trump at his own game? That was, like, a whole three months ago. Now he’s selling a course on how to be a “main character” while his own political career is basically a deleted scene from a mid-tier HBO drama. He’s the guy who peaked in high school, but instead of a podcast, he’s trying to monetize his own cringe.
The kicker? The course costs $299. For that price, you get access to a 12-hour video series, a PDF workbook that is just a single page that says “Blame the Democrats,” and a “limited edition” NFT of DeSantis’s face superimposed over a flaming garbage can. The NFT is, naturally, non-fungible, non-refundable, and almost certainly a tax write-off.
But here’s the real AITA-level question: Is Ron DeSantis a genius for finding a way to profit off his own political implosion? Or is he just the world’s most desperate grifter? I’m leaning toward a solid “Yes.”
Think about it. The man spent the last two years fighting a war against Mickey Mouse, banning books he hadn’t read, and trying to make “woke” the new “satanic panic.” He lost. He lost the primary. He lost the culture war narrative (turns out, most people don’t care about drag queens reading to their kids if their kids are too busy getting shot at school). He lost the ability to be taken seriously by anyone outside of a Fox News green room.
So now, he’s turning his biggest loss—his personality—into a product. It’s the ultimate hustle. It’s the “I’m not broke, I’m just pivoting” of political careers. It’s the “I’m not a loser, I’m a consultant” of the 21st century.
The only thing more embarrassing than this course is the fact that it will probably sell out. There’s a certain breed of American who loves this stuff. The guy who wears a “Don’t Tread on Me” hat but also thinks the government should force women to give birth. The lady who posts “All Lives Matter” memes while simultaneously complaining about critical race theory. The people who think “owning the libs” is a valid personality trait. They will eat this up. They will pay $299 for the privilege of being taught by a man who once tried to fly migrants to Martha’s Vineyard and then acted surprised when people were mad.
DeSantis isn’t teaching how to be a main character. He’s teaching how to be a caricature. A badly written, one-dimensional villain from a CW show that got canceled after one season. He’s the guy who yells at clouds, but now he’s charging admission to watch him do it.
The real tragedy? He’s probably going to make more money off this course than he would have as president. That’s the American Dream, baby. Fail upwards, monetize your failures, and never, ever, ever admit you were wrong.
So, good luck, Ron. May your course be filled with subscribers who are just as clueless
Final Thoughts
Ron DeSantis has masterfully positioned himself as a cultural warrior in the mold of Trump, yet without the chaos—a calculated bet that the GOP base craves the substance of conservative governance delivered with a colder, more disciplined edge. However, his recent stumbles on the national stage reveal a brittle political persona that struggles to connect beyond Florida’s sunny, controlled environment; charisma, it turns out, can’t be legislated into existence. Ultimately, DeSantis may prove that winning the culture war is one thing, but winning the human touch required for the presidency is quite another—a lesson history tends to teach the ambitious, if they’re willing to listen.