Rome-on-the-Potomac trembled once again.
Not because of a volcano. Not because of a comet. And not because Senatorus Tedus Cruzus accidentally tried to filibuster a toaster.
No.
This time, the Imperial Council of Economic Prophets had spoken.
And what it announced sounded less like a policy analysis and more like Nostradamus had swallowed a calculator.
Under the glorious reign of Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Maximus, Conqueror of Inflation, Lord of Tariffs and self-declared Guardian of Every American Wallet, the imperial palace released a report carrying a message of magnificent subtlety:
If the socialist barbarians ever get their way, America will financially resemble Rome after Nero discovered a corporate credit card.
The report is titled, in suitably dramatic fashion, “The Real Cost of Socialism in America.”
And the imperial economists calculated.
They calculated a lot.
They calculated so intensely that several abacuses were reportedly placed on administrative leave.
At the end stood a number so enormous that Trumpius himself may briefly have considered naming it after himself:
$49 trillion.
According to the palace scroll, that would mean hundreds of thousands of dollars in economic burden per American household.
Or, converted into official Trumpius currency: roughly three golden towers, seven golf courses and one modestly sized Department of Defense per family.
The Socialist Chamber of Horrors
The report then opens the imperial cabinet of doom.
Open borders.
Mass amnesty.
Less police.
No prisons.
Government-run healthcare.
Canceled student debt.
In other words, everything required to transform a political argument into the official trailer for:
“Mad Max: Washington Edition.”
The palace warning is appropriately restrained.
Prices would soar.
Interest rates would explode.
Taxes would rise.
Jobs would vanish.
Wages would suffer.
Homeownership would become a distant dream.
And eventually, presumably, refilling the salt shaker would require a luxury tax and a federal permit.
Trumpius therefore makes one thing crystal clear:
America shall never become communist under his reign.
An important assurance, because judging by the tone of the report, the nation had apparently been only three committee meetings away from collectivized Starbucks locations and government-issued golf carts distributed under a Five-Year Plan.
Then Came Trumpius
Fortunately, says the imperial chronicle, Trumpius returned to the Golden Throne.
And from that sacred moment onward, the palace says, money began returning to pockets.
Factories awakened.
Jobs appeared.
Energy flowed.
Crime fell.
Prices improved.
Manufacturing surged.
Housing began healing.
In short, America entered a renaissance so glorious that the original Renaissance now looks like somebody repainting a bus shelter.
The empire is particularly proud of tax relief.
No tax on tips!
No tax on overtime!
Tax relief for Social Security income!
More support for families!
In Imperial Washington, the entire tax policy sounds as though Trumpius personally visits federal tax forms at night, crosses out random boxes with a giant red marker and declares:
“THIS TAX IS FIRED!”
Oil, Factories and Imperial Prosperity
The factories, too, are apparently marching again.
Steel is being made.
Machines are roaring.
Manufacturing jobs are rising.
Wages are increasing.
Somewhere in the Midwest, there is probably a machine running twelve percent faster simply because somebody hung a portrait of Trumpius above it.
Then comes energy.
Oil!
Gas!
Production records!
More energy is coming, the palace proclaims, and naturally it shall be cheaper.
Trumpius also promises that ordinary Americans will not be forced to pay for the great industrial and technological boom.
Which is reassuring, because traditionally the phrase “historic economic boom” is followed three paragraphs later by an invoice.
Borders Closed, Cells Open
On immigration and crime, the palace paints its familiar monumental fresco.
The border is secured.
Millions have been deported.
Crime is falling.
Police are respected again.
Thus, in the Trumpius version of America, nearly everything is being solved at once.
The border?
Solved.
Inflation?
Being solved magnificently.
Energy?
Solved.
Jobs?
Extremely solved.
Housing?
Proceeding toward glorious solvency.
Political opponents?
Apparently costing $49 trillion.
The imperial court has therefore discovered a remarkably efficient governing equation:
Trumpius policy = Renaissance.
Opposition policy = Economic Meteor Strike.
The Imperial Finale
And so the proclamation from the marble halls of Washington ends with perhaps the humblest conclusion of the entire age:
Only Trumpius can make this reversal possible.
And much more is coming.
What exactly?
Nobody knows.
Cheaper homes, perhaps.
Lower energy bills, maybe.
Possibly a federal marble-column mandate.
One thing, however, is certain:
When the Imperial Council of Economic Advisers publishes its next report, America should order a larger calculator.
Because under Donaldus Trumpius Maximus, political disagreements are not merely debated.
They are measured in trillions.
And if the opposition does not cost at least the equivalent of a small planet, then clearly the spreadsheet was not imperial enough.
