Washingtonium, September 11, 2026.
It was another historic day in the mighty Imperium Americanum, a day on which the sun presumably rose only because Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Caesar Maximus had not yet issued an executive order instructing it to do otherwise.
On Friday, Trumpius Caesar marched toward the golden desk of the White Palatium, seized the most powerful presidential pen in human history, and performed an ancient imperial ceremony known in lesser democracies simply as:
Signing legislation.
But Trumpius does not merely sign.
Trumpius consecrates.
Four congressional scrolls received the magnificent imperial signature.
Four!
Julius Caesar conquered Gaul.
Augustus built an empire.
Trumpius signed H.R. 1276.
History clearly knows how to save the biggest achievements for last.
H.R. 1276 – The Liberation of the 3.62 Acres
The first sacred scroll concerns approximately 3.62 acres of land in Paducah, Kentuckium.
For years, this heroic patch of American soil had suffered beneath something known as “deed restrictions.”
Restrictions!
On American land!
Clearly an intolerable situation.
Trumpius therefore commanded the Imperial Department of Interior Lands, Magnificent Rocks and Extremely Beautiful Grass to remove those restrictions from the property previously transferred to the City of Paducah.
At last, 3.62 acres could breathe the sweet air of freedom.
Trumpius reportedly gazed majestically into the distance.
“Beautiful acres. Incredible acres. People are saying these may be the finest 3.62 acres anybody has ever seen.”
Future historians may require several volumes to adequately document the event.
H.R. 2069 – No More Secret Money Shenanigans
Next came the Stop Secret Spending Act of 2025, henceforth known throughout the Empire as:
Lex Pecunia Non Abscondita Trumpiana Maxima.
The law expands federal spending transparency requirements to include certain “other transaction agreements” while adjusting related standards, oversight and reporting.
In other words:
If Washingtonium spends money, somebody should eventually be able to figure out where it went.
Preferably before the next geological era.
The Empire shall therefore achieve transparency through the traditional federal method of creating additional reporting requirements, oversight mechanisms, documentation standards and enough paperwork to construct a small defensive wall around the Treasury.
Trumpius Caesar was delighted.
Federal spending would now become incredibly transparent.
Possibly so transparent that citizens will only need three websites, seven reports and a 412-page PDF to understand it.
H.R. 2196 – More Time to Honor the Heroes
The third imperial scroll was the National Emergency Medical Services Memorial Extension Act.
It extends the authority of the National Emergency Medical Services Memorial Foundation to establish a commemorative work on federal land in Districtus Columbiana honoring emergency medical services personnel.
And rightly so.
These are people who rush toward emergencies, save lives and remain calm while the rest of civilization can descend into total panic because the office printer says:
PAPER JAM – TRAY 2.
Trumpius Caesar therefore granted additional time for the memorial project.
Because even in the greatest empire ever assembled, apparently building a monument in Washingtonium requires considerable patience.
There are plans.
Approvals.
Reviews.
More approvals.
Possibly a committee investigating the previous committee's approval of the approval process.
Rome wasn't built in a day.
Washingtonium wasn't permitted in one either.
H.R. 5366 – Disaster Relief Without a Second Disaster
Finally came the magnificently named Doug LaMalfa Federal Disaster Tax Relief Certainty Act, which imperial scholars immediately translated into:
Lex Dougus LaMalfus Disasterus Taxus Reliefus Maxima.
The law extends and codifies federal tax relief for qualified personal casualty losses resulting from disasters and excludes certain qualified wildfire relief payments from gross income.
This represents a revolutionary principle of imperial taxation:
If your house burns down and somebody gives you money to recover, perhaps the government should not immediately appear from behind a smoking tree holding a tax form.
A concept so logical that it required legislation.
Trumpius Caesar would surely approve:
“If you lost your house in a wildfire, that's already a very bad day. You don't need the tax people arriving and saying: Congratulations on the relief payment.”
And thus fiscal civilization advanced another glorious inch.
Four Laws. One Caesar. Infinite Greatness.
And so another monumental day concluded beneath the golden banners of the Imperium Americanum.
A 3.62-acre parcel was liberated from restrictions.
Federal spending became more transparent.
Emergency medical personnel moved closer to receiving their memorial.
Disaster victims received greater tax certainty.
Four bills.
Four signatures.
One imperial pen.
And somewhere deep inside Washingtonium, thousands of federal employees presumably began preparing the regulations, reports, procedures, guidance documents and spreadsheets required to explain what the four signatures actually mean.
But those are merely details.
The history books shall remember the important part:
Trumpius Caesar signed.
And whenever Trumpius Caesar places pen upon parchment, even federal administrative law becomes an imperial victory parade.
