The decision to overturn The Onion’s purchase of Infowars is a massive mistake that not only ignores the law but also profoundly misses the point of the nature of parody and satire, something we especially need in the serious and severe of times.

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The ruling by Houston US Bankruptcy Judge Christopher Lopez takes aim at a move that was bold, creative, and quintessentially satirical, framing it as frivolous when it’s actually rooted in some of the deepest traditions of free speech. By doing this, Judge Lopez not only misunderstands the purpose of satire but also sets a dangerous precedent that could have a chilling effect on how we critique and challenge power in today’s media landscape.

At its heart, satire is a tool for social commentary. It takes the absurdities, hypocrisies, or excesses of public life and magnifies them, showing us the truth in ways that are sharp, funny, and often painfully accurate. Think of it as holding up a funhouse mirror to reality—except what you see is a more honest reflection than what’s presented to us by those in power.

The Onion has built its entire reputation on this principle, skewering everything from politics to pop culture in ways that are both biting and hilarious. So when The Onion decided to buy Infowars, it wasn’t just a business transaction, it was a profound societal statement. It was saying, “Look how absurd this platform is, that we, as a satire outlet, can buy it and make it into what it always was – a complete and total joke.”

When The Onion bought Infowars, it wasn’t just poking fun but was rather leveraging the mechanics of capitalism to make a larger point about how misinformation spreads.

But the judge didn’t seem to get this. Instead, the ruling dismissed the purchase as a stunt, implying that satire and business don’t mix.

This is a fundamental misunderstanding of how satire works in a modern context. Satire doesn’t stay confined to newspaper columns or stand-up routines. It can happen through art, performance, social media, and yes, even through corporate acquisitions.

So when The Onion bought Infowars, it wasn’t just poking fun but was rather leveraging the mechanics of capitalism to make a larger point about how misinformation spreads and how ridiculous it is that a platform like Infowars has managed to thrive in the first place.

This decision also fails to appreciate the First Amendment’s role in protecting satire, which has long been recognized as essential to free speech.

In landmark cases such as Hustler Magazine v. Falwell, the Supreme Court made it clear that satire—even or particularly when offensive or outrageous—is protected because it contributes to the robust exchange of ideas that democracy depends on.

By stepping into the middle of what should be a creative expression of that right, the court has undermined one of the most important tools we have for holding powerful entities accountable. And let’s face it—Infowars was and probably still is a powerful entity. Its influence on public discourse, despite being rooted in conspiracy theories and misinformation, is undeniable. The Onion’s ownership could have served as a brilliant counter-narrative, showing that satire has the power to dismantle even the loudest megaphones of disinformation.

What’s even more baffling is how the court ignored the legal basics of the case. The Onion followed all the necessary rules for acquiring a business. It wasn’t some rogue operation—they played their acquisition by the book. The judge, however, seemed to suggest that because the purchase had a satirical motive, it somehow wasn’t legitimate.

The judge’s rationale is riddled with flaws—both legal and logical—that higher courts are unlikely to overlook.

That’s a dangerous precedent. Businesses make acquisitions for all kinds of reasons—strategic, symbolic, even philanthropic. Why should satire be singled out as less valid? The judge is essentially saying that if you’re not in it purely for profit, your motives don’t count. That’s not how corporate law works, and it’s certainly not how it should.

But let’s not ignore the broader social implications here. Infowars has spent years spreading harmful conspiracy theories and fostering division. The Onion’s ownership could have flipped the script, turning the platform into a parody of itself and exposing the absurdity of its content in a way that no fact-checker or critic ever could.

Instead, the judge’s decision protects Infowars from that kind of scrutiny. It’s almost as if the court is shielding the very kind of rhetoric that satire is meant to challenge. And that’s not just disappointing—it’s downright dangerous.

This ruling also sends a chilling message to other satirical voices. It tells them that if they step outside the bounds of traditional parody, they might face legal consequences. That’s a problem because satire thrives on pushing boundaries. It’s supposed to be disruptive. By reining it in, the court risks stifling one of the most effective ways we have of questioning authority, challenging misinformation, and holding the powerful accountable.

So what happens next? Thankfully, this decision is almost certain to be appealed, and for good reason. The judge’s rationale is riddled with flaws—both legal and logical—that higher courts are unlikely to overlook.

The First Amendment implications alone should give any appellate court pause. And then there’s the sheer absurdity of invalidating a legal business transaction simply because the motives behind it were satirical. The Onion has plenty of resources and public support to see this fight through, and it’s likely that they’ll succeed in overturning the ruling.

In the end, this case is about more than just The Onion and Infowars. It’s about whether we’re willing to let satire do what it does best: speak truth to power in the most unexpected, creative ways.

The judge’s decision might have temporarily thrown a wrench in that process, but it won’t hold up. Satire is too important—and too protected—to be sidelined by a ruling this flawed. Sooner or later, The Onion will get its chance to show that sometimes the best way to take down absurdity is with even more absurdity. And when that happens, we’ll all be way better off for it.