Of all the colorful departures from federal service, it’s hard to top the curtain call of Edward Coristine, better known online as “Big Balls.” In a year already abundant with political oddities, the White House’s quiet confirmation of his resignation from the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) stands out—not just for the name, but for the peculiar series of events that brought him into, and now out of, the public eye.

The Rise and Retreat of an Unexpected Advisor

SoapCentral reports that Edward Coristine, at the notably youthful age of nineteen, resigned from his senior advisory position with DOGE on June 24, 2025. His time in government was brief but impossible to ignore—he’d only started at the General Services Administration, working with DOGE, just a few weeks earlier in May. In a detail highlighted by SoapCentral, Coristine’s appointment had already raised eyebrows given his age and unconventional background, which includes stints at Elon Musk’s Neuralink and an appearance in his family’s snack business, LesserEvil.

Livemint also documents that Coristine’s nickname, “Big Balls,” emerged as DOGE drew public attention for its aggressive federal job cuts and budget slashing. The meme quickly outgrew its origins, bringing Coristine both notoriety and scrutiny as the department charged forward under Musk’s leadership.

Interestingly, Reuters—via SoapCentral and Livemint—notes that Coristine’s entrance into government service was as much about timing as talent. Like several DOGE appointments, his rapid elevation corresponded with the department’s establishment and Musk’s signature approach: recruit young, tech-centric minds known for unconventional paths.

A Resume of Oddities and Old Threads

As documented in both SoapCentral and Livemint, Coristine’s professional history is something of a patchwork. He worked briefly at Neuralink, ventured into his father’s snack startup, and later registered a domain-holding business with the memorable moniker Tesla.Sexy LLC. There are not many in public service whose CVs dart from neuroware to popcorn to domain management in less than a year.

Questions inevitably followed. Earlier in the report, Livemint notes previous employment hiccups — notably, a dismissal from a cybersecurity firm due to an alleged data leak, and references to Coristine’s online exploits in chatrooms frequented by hackers. These episodes, combined with reports about a grandfather’s Soviet intelligence background (as recounted by SoapCentral, though with no formal investigation tied to Coristine’s federal role), painted a mosaic of unusual associations. Perhaps, in an era that prizes disruption, the unexpected is becoming the norm.

Lawmakers weren’t ignoring these details, either. Livemint describes how Democrats in the House Oversight Committee cited Coristine’s history in their push for a closer look at DOGE hiring practices, raising the question: Who, exactly, is working at the heart of government efficiency?

DOGE’s Uncertain Path, Minus Its Meme

Coristine’s exit is the latest in a string of high-profile departures from DOGE since Elon Musk walked away as department chief in May. According to Livemint, Steve Davis—Musk’s deputy and DOGE’s day-to-day manager—also resigned shortly after, with further resignations neither confirmed nor specifically detailed by the White House.

Despite the turmoil, officials maintain that DOGE’s mission of streamlining government through technology and artificial intelligence is ongoing. There’s no word yet on who—if anyone—will fill Coristine’s shoes. The General Services Administration, as SoapCentral points out, has not commented on any interim arrangements. At present, the department remains operational, if somewhat reduced and under scrutiny for both its fast-changing staff and the youthful, unorthodox personalities it’s attracted.

When Government Reality Reads Like a Chatroom Thread

Reading through the details, one has to wonder whether even the most creative fiction would have placed a nineteen-year-old, erstwhile Neuralink technician and domain entrepreneur with the handle “Big Balls” squarely inside the halls of federal efficiency. Coristine has yet to offer a public explanation, and both his official and personal accounts remain silent for now, as SoapCentral documents.

It’s an oddly fitting end (or perhaps just a pause) for a figure whose brief time in government was accompanied at every turn by online legend and offline curiosity. The question lingers: Can DOGE survive a meme-shaped staffing gap, or will this flurry of departures become just another footnote in the annals of federal experimentation?

For now, with “Big Balls” officially out of the building and no clarifying statements from the man himself, it seems the DOGE era may be remembered less for its efficiency and more for its accidental absurdity. Sometimes the truth is quirky enough on its own, no embellishment required.