MAGA’s political flamethrower just self-immolated. Or did she? MARK HALPERIN dissects MTG’s resignation and reveals why this is just the start…

The retreat of Marjorie Taylor Greene has been like her rise—loud, unruly, and unmistakably hers.

She has always been a paradox of American politics: part standard-issue MAGA foot soldier, part sui generis flamethrower, part wackadoodle, part trailblazer, a political arsonist who delighted in striking matches even as the fire began licking at her own heels.

Now, in the hours since she announced she’ll leave Congress in early January and won’t seek re-election in her merlot-red Georgia district, Washington has done what Washington always does: rush past the ‘why’ and dive headlong into the ‘what’s next?’ parlor game.

But before the betting markets start sketching out her second act—podcaster? gubernatorial gadfly? wandering political minstrel with a ring light and a lavalier mic?—it’s worth sitting a moment with the reasons she is dropping the blood-stained towel in the center of the ring and walking off.

How did a woman who once warned America about the perils of Jewish space lasers and gleefully squared off with any Democrat willing to rumble suddenly find herself preaching peace, love and understanding on ‘The View,’ earning the kind of supportive nods from Joy Behar that would give a hardened Newsmax producer night sweats?

How did the slayer of liberal dragons become the target of the right’s own militia of digital executioners—denounced not just by Donald Trump but by his personal Valkyrie of online purity, Laura Loomer?

It wasn’t one thing. It was everything. She crossed MAGA orthodoxy on health care. She quarreled with Trump’s inflation rhetoric.

And in the political equivalent of walking barefoot on broken glass, she broke with him on the release of the Jeffrey Epstein files.

Trump, who has always taken disloyalty as personally as a Soprano sniffing out a rat, decided she needed to be made an example of, especially with midterms looming and the Republican coalition vibrating with anxiety and ambition.

The president had already discouraged MTG from running for Senate or governor and had been openly toying with backing someone else in her primary.

When the Mafia boss starts looking at the menu of replacements, the wise guy (or gal) knows it’s time to get her affairs in order and get out of town.

‘I think it’s great news for the country,’ Trump told ABC News on Friday night, after days of mercilessly denouncing and deriding Taylor Greene as a traitor and a bum.

If the question of why she left is a tangle of betrayals and broken pacts, the question of what happens next is even harder to unwind.

Some commentators have floated a Liz Cheney-esque reinvention narrative—a conservative apostate welcomed into the warm embrace of the Blue opposition.

But comparing Greene to Cheney in terms of intellect, tactical discipline, dogmatic flexibility, or strategic clarity is like comparing Bobby Fischer to Gaston LeGume.

Yes, they’re on the same chessboard of American politics, but only one of them can see twelve moves ahead and navigate the complexities of making a tribal switcheroo.

The left has been flirting with Greene these last few weeks, more out of novelty and Trump-tweaking than any kinship with the Georgian.

She was the hottest political rental car in town: something you drive fast for an hour for the adrenaline, then return before you’re stuck with the dings or insurance or late fees.

But those who know her best doubt she’s ready to sit in a strategy session with Adam Schiff or join the cast of regulars giving moral lectures between commercial breaks on daytime TV.

She has said so herself: she remains a supporter of nearly all of Trump’s agenda, whatever their personal rupture.

What about running as an independent for statewide office? Or—because America is nothing if not a live-action satire—launching an independent bid for president?

That would require organization, discipline, fundraising and message mastery. Greene has many gifts, but her political metabolism has rarely been described with words like ‘methodical,’ ‘systematic’ or ‘scalable.’

Independence is a tall task for someone who has never functioned outside the regular rhythms of MAGA.

And, for those who note that Trump defied all the odds to win the White House, so why not MTG—it is worth a reminder that one cannot compare a Gala apple to an orange planet.

How about the TV-podcast-media route? There, too, reality intrudes. The trouble with launching a show is that it requires consistency—consistency of tone, consistency of schedule, consistency of predictability.

Greene is a political weather system, not a programming block. Networks want reliability; she offers volatility.

Sponsors want stability; she promises combustion and controversy. Audiences want a reason to tune in; she tends to give them ten reasons at once, all shouted.

She is better in small doses, and full-on, unadulterated MTG would likely compel viewers to tune out and turn off.

Still, it would be a mistake—and a Washington-sized one—to underestimate her.

American politics is littered with the discarded biographies of figures who were supposed to disappear but didn’t.

It remains unclear if MTG’s resignation is a fall from grace and power or simply a tactical retreat.

And Greene could find a second act no one sees coming, a high-profile resurrection built on grievance, personality, reinvention and the very savvy her critics say she lacks.

The era of celebrity politics is far from over; it may not even be past intermission.

Or it could go the other way entirely. After January, Greene could be running a CrossFit in rural Georgia, dispensing protein-powder wisdom to weekend warriors, aiming for Insta influencer cred, and reminiscing about the days when she could derail a news cycle with a single tweet.

Wherever she lands, the first chapter of the long, strange trip of Marjorie Taylor Greene is ending. Whether anyone is keen for Chapter Two remains to be seen.

As for Trump, he’s hoping everyone in MAGA studies the moral of this tale. In his world, loyalty is both currency and sacrament, and her fall is a parable written in capital letters.

Cross him, and you can go from Make America Great Again megastar to retiring has-been faster than you can grab a stiletto and slice a Georgia peach clean in two.