Underpinning the House of Cards mythology is a decidedly unlikely political scenario: that a single barrel bourbon-sipping, Citadel-educated, childless white man from a rural South Carolina district could be re-elected eleven times to Congress and later claim the White House as a Democrat. Yes, one can point to James Clyburn or John Spratt as evidence that South Carolina Democrats are electable, but to elevate one to the role of kingmaker (and eventually to king) is clearly divorced from the political realities of our day.

Nevertheless, the supreme binge-ability of House of Cards has always been enough to overcome whatever technical details it gets wrong. Ultimately, HoC is not a reflection of our politics, but a study of its characters. The servility of Doug Stamper. The emptiness of Peter Russo. The redemption of Rachel Posner. And more than just its characters are its relationships: the blind fealty of Frank’s deputies to his ignoble cause; the slow-footedness with which Frank’s unwitting pawns fall for his con; and of course the magnificent marriage of equals between Frank and Claire. They have no kids and no presumption of fidelity or even of heterosexuality (‘tis a pity that Agent Meechum is merely a bit player in Season 3). Theirs is a relationship that we wish we had with our own partner and at the same time glad we don’t. More importantly, it’s not the type of marriage that politicians are supposed to have, and yet it provides the show with its one badly needed moral compass. So I’ll grant HoC some creative license in how it portrays American politics. The upside-down American flag during the opening credits isn’t a design mistake, after all.

Nevertheless, regardless of whether HoC is a show about politics, it is most certainly a show for political enthusiasts, and as viewers, we are a fastidious lot, prone to distraction by incongruous plot points that less ambitious shows can paper over. And Season 3, in particular, seems to have pushed the envelope of political credulity past its breaking point, as if in the background of the opening credits a discerning viewer can now make out Henry Winkler circling the Baltimore Aquarium on water skis.

In particular, the following five developments make Season 3 are hard to square with a basic understanding of the American political landscape:

(Warning: Extremely mild spoilers to follow)

1 'America Works' Legislation America Works is the central domestic gambit of the nascent Underwood administration. Slash $500 billion out of entitlements and use the savings to employ 10 million long-term unemployed. Unemployment drops to zero. Sounds like a great idea, right? Holy guacamole, this is absolutely batshit-crazy public policy! The specific “entitlement” President Underwood plans to reform is Social Security. Normally, when politicians talk about “entitlement reform,” they’re talking about tweaking a formula here or there so that funding remains on a sustainable course for the foreseeable future. But what Underwood’s proposing is nothing less than shutting off the power to the third rail. For perspective, the total annual Social Security expenditure in 2013, including payments to both retirees and the disabled, was a little over $800 billion, so a $500 billion reduction in Social Security would represent a 60% cut to benefits. Assuming those cuts were borne proportionately, the average benefit for seniors would fall from about $1,300 to a little over $500 per month. So much for paying into the system over a lifetime of hard work. Good luck with the AARP, Mr. President! On the flip side, we just created 10 million new jobs. Hooray! But, umm, what exactly would these people do? The federal government could theoretically employ 10 million more people—thereby quintupling the size of the federal civilian workforce—but unless Congress also appropriates a whole lot more money for them to actually have anything to do (build bridges, repair dams, etc), there are going to be 10 million people sitting around a gigantic rubber room in Northern Virginia watching paint dry all day.

2 The Recess Appointment After the Senate doesn’t confirm the First Lady as U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations for making disparaging (albeit out-of-context) comments about the military, the President makes her a recess appointment. Umm, no. No. No. No. Can you imagine the public response if Barack tried to do this with Michelle? Most likely, a rare moment of bipartisan harmony would erupt between the Left and the Right, and the recess appointment clause of the constitution would go the way of the three-fifths compromise within a matter of days.

3 The proposal to replace Israeli troops with an international peace-keeping force in the Jordan Valley This is the central foreign policy gambit of the Underwood Administration and the issue upon which Claire stakes her entire reputation. While Middle East experts can debate until they’re red in the face whether this is a good idea or not, the matter would likely involve a diplomatic standoff with Israel, not Russia. This issue is highly controversial in Israel—think public demonstrations and early elections—and would not simply be agreed to among a few UN Ambassadors in a hotel room with the same level of urgency as deciding on half-priced appetizers.

4 Inviting Pussy Riot to a State Dinner honoring the President of Russia While getting two members of the real Pussy Riot—a daring band that bravely defied Vladimir Putin three years ago—was a casting coup, the idea that the Russian President would agree to attend a state dinner in their company simply doesn’t pass the sniff test.