james k polk
James K. Polk was the overachiever nobody invited to the party — a sickly math nerd who somehow failed his way into the presidency. He started as Tennessee’s biggest political flop, worshiped Andrew Jackson like a hype man on retainer, and still managed to expand the country like he was playing Manifest Destiny: The Home Game.
Ambitious, exhausting, and tragically competent, Polk turned being forgettable into a superpower. By the time he left office, America was bigger, angrier, and way more complicated — just like Polk probably wanted it.
John Tyler (jr)
John Tyler was the original “how did this guy end up in charge?” president. He slid into the White House not on a wave of popular support but because fate (and pneumonia) cleared the path. A states’ rights purist with a serious gold fixation and an instinctive distrust of banks, Tyler was basically the Whig Party’s emotional support problem. He was technically their guy, but only in the way a cat technically lives in your house, there on paper, utterly uncooperative in practice.
Once in power, Tyler quickly made it clear he was not about to be anyone’s party puppet. He vetoed Whig bills, torched alliances, and left a trail of political wig-flipping chaos in his wake. By the end of his accidental presidency, the Whigs had booted him from the party, Congress was over him, and America was left with a man who’d redefined “presidential drama” before reality TV was even a thing.
william henry harrison
Martin Van Buren wasn’t just some tavern kid from Kinderhook — he was the kid who figured out that serving beer to bickering politicians was the fastest crash course in power you could get. Fast forward a few decades and he’s sitting in the White House, running the country like it’s his own personal chessboard.
Nicknamed “The Little Magician” (because “Slicker Than You” was apparently taken), Van Buren mastered the backroom deal, invented the political machine, and somehow convinced Jackson he was just a loyal little sidekick. Joke’s on Old Hickory: the “puppet” was learning all the tricks of the trade, and he was damn good at it.
By the time he grabbed the presidency in 1837, Van Buren was done hiding in the wings. He had his own agenda, his own style, and the confidence to ditch the marionette strings. Problem is, his timing was trash — nothing like kicking off your presidency with a full-blown economic panic and a nation ready to riot.
So was he Jackson’s puppet? Absolutely. But then he pulled a Van Buren special: flipped the script, claimed the stage, and showed the country that the quiet Dutch kid wasn’t just a side act — he was the main event.
MARTIN VAN BUREN
Martin Van Buren wasn’t just some tavern kid from Kinderhook — he was the kid who figured out that serving beer to bickering politicians was the fastest crash course in power you could get. Fast forward a few decades and he’s sitting in the White House, running the country like it’s his own personal chessboard.
Nicknamed “The Little Magician” (because “Slicker Than You” was apparently taken), Van Buren mastered the backroom deal, invented the political machine, and somehow convinced Jackson he was just a loyal little sidekick. Joke’s on Old Hickory: the “puppet” was learning all the tricks of the trade, and he was damn good at it.
By the time he grabbed the presidency in 1837, Van Buren was done hiding in the wings. He had his own agenda, his own style, and the confidence to ditch the marionette strings. Problem is, his timing was trash — nothing like kicking off your presidency with a full-blown economic panic and a nation ready to riot.
So was he Jackson’s puppet? Absolutely. But then he pulled a Van Buren special: flipped the script, claimed the stage, and showed the country that the quiet Dutch kid wasn’t just a side act — he was the main event.
andrew jackson
From bootless brawler to unchecked power machine, Andrew Jackson is the ultimate “maybe don’t root for him too hard” story. He clawed his way out of a brutal childhood—dead parents, dead brothers, and a whole lot of Revolutionary War trauma—and somehow landed in the halls of power. By all accounts, he should’ve been a historical footnote. Instead, he became a war hero, a courtroom bruiser, and a political icon with serious main character energy. America loves a self-made man... until that man starts making laws.
And that’s where things get messy. Because once Jackson hit the White House, he brought that same brawler energy—just with more vetoes and way worse consequences. He crushed the national bank, ignored the Supreme Court, and steamrolled Indigenous nations like they were inconvenient speed bumps on his path to greatness. Jackson’s rise is fascinating, infuriating, and full of red flags we absolutely should have seen coming.