A proclamation of such tremendous metallurgical greatness has thundered from the imperial halls of Washingtonium that ordinary paper clips across the Empire are reportedly standing at attention: Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Maximus has personally rediscovered American steel. Apparently, it had been hiding underneath Minnesota the entire time.
It was a great day for the Empire.
A historic day.
Possibly the steeliest day since somebody invented the frying pan.
Donaldus Trumpius Maximus appeared before the assembled senators, governors, industrial legionnaires, economic priests, and professionally trained applauders to announce the construction of a gigantic steel mill in the glorious province of Iowanium.
Not just any steel mill.
No.
A TRUMPIAN STEEL MILL.
So enormous that lesser steel mills may soon have to register themselves as garden sheds.
Mesabi Metallicus is preparing to pour billions into this new imperial forge. Iron ore will come from the northern lands of Minnesotania, travel majestically across America, and eventually become American steel in Iowanium.
Or, as the Imperial Palace will probably describe the process from now on:
Mined in America. Melted in America. Poured in America. And somehow personally accomplished by Trumpius.
Because according to the official Palace Chronicle, American mining and steelmaking before the return of the Emperor existed in roughly the condition ancient Roman historians described as:
“Everything was terrible until Caesar arrived.”
The previous rulers, Barackus Obamius and Josephus Bidenicus, are portrayed in the Trumpian chronicles as men who apparently woke every morning and asked:
“What can we do today to prevent somebody from turning on a bulldozer?”
Permits!
Environmental reviews!
Protected lands!
Regulations!
To Trumpius, these are mysterious relics from the terrible historical period now officially known as B.T. II — Before Trumpius, Part Two.
But those dark centuries are over.
Now mountains are no longer merely asked:
“Should this ecosystem be protected?”
They may also hear the much more Trumpian question:
“How much steel is inside you?”
The Miracle of Minnesotania
The Imperial Court is particularly proud of a newly opened iron ore mine in Minnesotania, the first new operation of its kind in decades.
Trumpius may eventually regard this as a personal victory over geology itself.
After all, those rocks have been sitting underground for millions of years.
Coincidence?
The Palace historians will investigate.
Perhaps they were simply waiting for Trumpius.
“DIG!” comes the metaphorical command from Washingtonium.
And America digs.
America melts.
America pours.
America rolls.
At this rate, an executive decree may soon require American steel to whisper “USA! USA! USA!” while cooling.
The Democratius Barbarians and the Age of Paperwork
Naturally, every imperial triumph requires villains.
Enter the dreaded Democratius Regulatory Legions.
According to the Trumpian version of history, these mysterious bureaucratic warriors spent years wandering through America's forests armed with environmental assessments, regulations, federal permits, and frighteningly thick binders.
Whenever somebody attempted to lift a shovel, a Democratius official allegedly jumped from behind a tree shouting:
“DO YOU HAVE FORM 27-B FOR THAT?”
But Trumpius has returned.
And according to the Imperial Chronicle, he hasn't merely changed government policy.
No.
He has practically deregulated the periodic table.
Iron: American.
Coal: American.
Steel: American.
Tariffs: extremely American.
Trumpius: obviously the most American substance currently known to science.
Scientists are still determining whether he should receive his own chemical symbol.
Tr.
Atomic number: tremendous.
The Steelworkers Return from the Mist
The Palace also celebrates growing domestic steel production, new investment and additional steel jobs.
In ordinary economics, developments like these might involve complicated interactions among investment decisions, commodity prices, tariffs, energy costs, global demand, regulations, technology and corporate strategy.
Ridiculous.
That explanation would require charts.
The Imperial explanation is much simpler:
Trumpius returned.
Steel returned.
Case closed.
Economics departments may therefore begin shutting down immediately.
Future American economic theory will require only one chart:
Trumpius enters room → arrow goes up.
Trumpius signs decree → bigger arrow goes up.
Trumpius says “TARIFFS” → arrow becomes so powerful that it leaves the chart entirely and applies for admission to the Space Force.
The Imperial Furnace Awakens
And now the furnaces of Iowanium shall glow.
Ore from Minnesotania shall travel south.
Steel shall emerge.
Factories shall hum.
Construction crews shall build.
And somewhere inside the Imperial Palace, a ceremonial golden Sharpie is presumably being prepared in case Caesar needs to personally autograph the first steel beam.
Perhaps historians will one day discover a small inscription:
DONALDUS TRUMPIUS MAXIMUS FECIT.
Trumpius made this.
Trumpius built this.
Trumpius probably mined it himself before breakfast.
The Golden Age Is Now Made of Steel
Thus begins a magnificent new chapter in the Empire.
Not the Bronze Age.
Not the Iron Age.
Not the Industrial Age.
Welcome instead to the:
TRUMPIAN STEEL AGE.
From the mines of Minnesotania to the furnaces of Iowanium, American ore shall become American steel while Donaldus Trumpius Maximus gazes down from the marble balcony of the White Palace and perhaps declares:
“Look at this metal. Very strong. Beautiful metal. Everybody says so. Maybe the strongest metal ever. Some people are saying I invented steel. Very respected people.”
Historians may wish to fact-check that last part.
Until then, the Imperial doctrine is beautifully simple:
If it is mined, it is American.
If it is melted, it is American.
If it is poured, it is American.
And if a piece of steel accidentally falls off the production line, someone in Washingtonium will probably investigate whether it can legally be stamped:
MADE IN AMERICA — BY TRUMPIUS.
Because Rome, as everyone knows, wasn't built in a day.
But Trumpius would have claimed he finished it before lunch.
