Washingtonia, August X, MMXXVI — Palatium Album
There are months for love.
There are months for taxes.
There are months when Americans place enormous orange vegetables on their porches and somehow convince themselves that this is perfectly normal interior design.
And then there is National Shooting Sports Month.
The glorious season when Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Maximus Caesar, Defender of the Second Amendment, Conqueror of Federal Paperwork, Protector of the Magnificent Outdoors, and Supreme Pontifex of Things That Go Bang, reminds the citizens of the Republic that America was not built on apple pie, constitutional liberty, and suspiciously large pickup trucks alone.
No!
Apparently, there was also quite a lot of bang involved.
And so, from the marble halls of the Palatium Album, the Imperial White House issued a proclamation celebrating recreational shooting, hunting, rugged individualism, conservation, personal responsibility, and one of the most sacred texts in the Trumpian canon:
The Secundus Emendamentum.
The Second Amendment.
Very powerful.
Very constitutional.
Possibly the only amendment in Washingtonia capable of entering a room before the person carrying the Constitution.
Westward Ho, Citizens!
According to the imperial proclamation, generations of recreational shooting and hunting helped instill discipline and promote the rugged individualism that drove American civilization westward.
Trumpius Caesar was reportedly delighted.
“Westward!” he proclaimed, according to absolutely no official imperial transcript whatsoever. “Our people went west. Very far west. Incredible distances. No GPS. No charging stations. No apps. They just went. Tremendous pioneers.”
Imperial historians immediately began sweating.
They attempted to explain that the westward expansion of the United States was a somewhat more complicated historical process involving migration, agriculture, railroads, territorial expansion, economic interests, Indigenous peoples, wars, settlement policies, and several chapters that cannot easily be summarized by a man pointing heroically toward California.
The Palace responded with its traditional scholarly rebuttal:
“Fake Scrolls!”
And thus the historical discussion was concluded.
Rights From Above
Trumpius Caesar then ascended to the theological balcony of the proclamation.
The right to keep and bear arms, the message declared, is among the most cherished liberties secured by the Constitution and rests upon the timeless principle that fundamental rights are endowed by Almighty God rather than handed down as favors from government.
The imperial hierarchy was therefore clarified:
At the very top:
Almighty God.
Below Him:
The Constitution.
Below that:
Trumpius Caesar.
Below Trumpius:
Approximately 340 million Americans.
And somewhere deep beneath the marble floors of Washingtonia sits a federal employee attempting to determine whether Form 17-B must be submitted before Form 17-B Supplementum Alpha.
But even amid all the imperial trumpets, the message included an important qualification.
Liberty, Trumpius declared, requires discipline, integrity, care, and personal responsibility.
Because constitutional freedom works rather better when citizens exercise it responsibly.
Even J.D. Vancius Appalachicus, Vice-Imperator of the Republic and Grand Tribune of the Ohioan Hills, could presumably agree.
“Libertas magna est,” he might declare solemnly.
“Responsibilitas quoque.”
Imperial Latin scholars would object.
Nobody would care.
It would look magnificent carved into marble.
Make America Beautiful Again — With Deer
Then something remarkable happened.
The imperial proclamation about shooting sports suddenly transformed into a conservation speech.
Only in Washingtonia can one begin with the Second Amendment and arrive three paragraphs later at wildlife habitat.
Hunters and anglers, the Palace noted, have long played an important role in conservation — supporting wildlife habitats, game populations, public lands, and waters for future generations.
Enter the magnificently named:
Make America Beautiful Again Commission.
Because apparently even the wilderness now requires branding.
Trumpius Caesar's administration says it intends to expand access to America's natural treasures, promote responsible stewardship, preserve the country's frontier heritage, and keep the great outdoors vibrant.
The Emperor reportedly examined a map of the United States.
“Look at these mountains,” Trumpius said in the imaginary imperial version of events. “Beautiful mountains. The best mountains. Other countries have hills. Maybe some decent mountains. But ours? Tremendous.”
A nervous imperial naturalist attempted to explain that mountain elevation is generally determined by geology rather than executive authority.
He was immediately transferred to the Department of Very Small Hills.
The Bureaucracy Meets Caesar
No Trumpian proclamation would be complete without a ceremonial battle against bureaucracy.
The Department of Justice and the Bureau Alcoholis, Tabacci, Firearmorum et Explosivorum — mercifully still known to ordinary mortals as the ATF — updated regulations intended to better reflect statutory language and case law while reducing what the administration describes as unnecessary burdens on law-abiding gun owners.
Trumpius Caesar approves greatly of this concept.
For bureaucracy is the ancient dragon of Washingtonia.
It sleeps beneath federal buildings.
It feeds on printer toner.
It reproduces by attaching additional pages to forms.
And it can only be defeated by the sacred imperial weapon:
Regulatory revision.
The Trumpian administrative doctrine is therefore simple:
If a federal form becomes longer than the Constitution, somebody must remove a page.
If it becomes longer than War and Peace, summon the Secretary.
If it requires three signatures, two notarizations, four passwords, a fax machine, and the maiden name of your first bald eagle, Caesar himself may intervene.
More Land for the Great American Bang
But Trumpius Caesar does not merely want fewer bureaucratic obstacles.
His administration also wants expanded access to recreational shooting on public lands.
The Bureau of Land Management is working to make existing public and private shooting ranges easier to use, while the United States Forest Service is expanding recreational shooting opportunities on designated federal lands.
Thus the traditional soundtrack of the American wilderness receives another instrument.
Bird:
Tweet.
River:
Splash.
Leaves:
Rustle.
National Shooting Sports Month:
BANG.
Naturally, the imperial message concerns designated areas and responsible use.
Because even in the Empire of Trumpius, the phrase “great outdoors” does not mean that every picnic table automatically becomes a firing range.
The Departments of the Interior and Agriculture are also working with citizens, shooting-sports groups, and conservation organizations to expand public access to hunting and recreational shooting opportunities.
The Palace has unofficially named this magnificent system:
Publica-Privata-Bang Partnership.
Nobody requested the Latin.
Trumpius provided it anyway.
Passing the Tradition Forward
Near the conclusion of the proclamation, the imperial brass section quieted.
Trumpius Caesar honored the men and women who pass hunting and shooting traditions from one generation to the next while teaching respect for nature, firearm safety, personal responsibility, and love of country.
And beneath the marble columns, imaginary eagles, golden curtains, and ceremonial absurdity lies the serious principle at the heart of the message:
Rights and responsibilities travel together.
If shooting sports and hunting are to remain enduring American traditions, firearm safety, responsible conduct, conservation, and respect for others matter just as much as celebrating constitutional liberty.
But Trumpius Caesar does not finish speeches quietly.
Trumpius finishes them imperially.
America, the proclamation declared, will continue defending Second Amendment rights, protecting constitutional freedoms, preserving the magnificent outdoors, and carrying forward sporting traditions that helped shape the character and spirit of the Republic.
And then, perhaps, the Imperator rose from his golden desk.
He looked westward.
Toward forests.
Toward mountains.
Toward freedom.
Toward the glorious frontier.
And possibly toward a golf course.
Because even during National Shooting Sports Month, the most sacred shot in the personal calendar of Trumpius Caesar remains the one taken from the first tee.
And somewhere beyond the Potomac, the ceremonial horn of the Empire sounded:
AVE TRUMPIUS!
August has begun.
The Constitution stands ready.
The wilderness remains magnificent.
The bureaucracy is retreating.
And Washingtonia has wisely purchased ear protection.
