On this glorious evening in the Imperium Americanum, an event occurred so monumental that future generations may have to carve it into marble — assuming the stonecutter can still afford diesel for his truck.
Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Maximus, Conqueror of Gas Pumps, Pontifex Maximus of Truck Stops, Protector of Farmers and Supreme Guardian of the American Fuel Can, rose before his people in Nebraska and announced one of those imperial measures for which historians instinctively order extra exclamation points.
The red diesel is coming!
Not ordinary diesel.
Not boring diesel.
RED DIESEL.
The mysterious crimson fuel previously destined mainly for farm machinery, construction equipment, and other magnificent machines that spend their lives digging holes, plowing fields, or making enough noise that nobody dares ask about fuel economy.
But Trumpius looked across his vast empire and apparently reached a revolutionary conclusion:
Why should tractors have all the fun?
And so the Emperor raised his golden pen, lowered it upon the sacred parchment, and issued what shall henceforth be known throughout the imperial provinces as the Edictum Dieselium Rubrum.
The distinction between highway diesel and tax-advantaged off-road diesel had encountered something far more powerful than tax law:
Trumpius Caesar with a pen.
The Color of Freedom Is Now Red
The imperial proclamation contained a wonderfully Trumpian revelation.
Red diesel is basically diesel.
The difference?
It is dyed red and treated differently for tax purposes.
For lesser rulers, this might have triggered a complicated discussion involving tax policy, transportation law, energy markets and regulatory enforcement.
For Trumpius, the matter was essentially settled.
If two fuels are basically the same and the main differences are color and taxation, then there can be only one conclusion under Trumpian Natural Law:
Keep the color. Lose the tax.
Imperial scientists immediately began investigating whether this magnificent principle could solve other problems.
Red property taxes.
Blue income taxes.
Golden coffee with no sales tax.
Perhaps one day the entire federal budget can simply be painted green and officially declared balanced.
The Highway Legions Rejoice
The greatest beneficiaries are expected to include the mighty Legiones Truckeri Maximae, the enormous mechanical legions hauling goods across the empire day and night.
Their chariots are slightly larger than Roman ones.
They also have sleeper cabins, air conditioning and considerably more horsepower.
But most importantly, they drink diesel with the enthusiasm of an imperial banquet guest discovering an unattended wine amphora.
A major fill-up can therefore consume not merely fuel but a respectable portion of whatever money the driver had hoped to keep.
Trumpius presented the potential savings with the enthusiasm ancient Caesars once reserved for conquered provinces.
And if individual states follow the imperial example, the savings could become even greater.
Thus begins America's newest competition:
Which state has the cheapest red diesel and the largest pickup truck available to collect it?
Across Nebraska, citizens may soon arrive at gas stations with suspiciously enormous vehicles and a single bale of hay thrown into the bed, just in case someone asks whether they qualify as agriculture.
“Yes, officer. This is clearly a tractor.”
“It has leather seats.”
“Luxury tractor.”
Naturally, the World Is to Blame
The imperial court also explained why diesel had become expensive in the first place.
War.
Tight global supply.
Insufficient refining capacity.
International energy markets.
In other words:
Complicated stuff.
Fortunately, complicated problems are precisely where Trumpius excels at discovering solutions that fit comfortably onto a ceremonial scroll.
Where economists examine refinery utilization, global commodity flows, transportation costs and geopolitical risks, Trumpius requires only a signature and apparently a sufficiently large container of red dye.
Problemus Complexus?
Solutionus Trumpius.
The Emperor has thereby reduced energy economics to its purest imperial form:
If regular diesel is expensive, use the diesel that is cheaper.
Economists around the world reportedly closed their textbooks, removed their glasses and stared silently through nearby windows.
Years of study.
Entire university departments.
Thousands of research papers.
And nobody thought to check whether the cheaper fuel came in another color.
The Miracle of Nebraska
Naturally, within the Trumpian court this shall never be remembered as merely a temporary tax measure.
Absolutely not.
This is the Liberation of Red Diesel.
For generations, the crimson fuel lived under oppression, imprisoned inside tractors, bulldozers and agricultural machinery.
It watched the highways from afar.
It dreamed of the Interstate.
It longed for freedom.
Now the gates have opened.
Somewhere, perhaps, the first tanker of liberated red diesel is rolling down an American highway as a bald eagle circles overhead, a farmer removes his cap, and several pickup trucks spontaneously become agricultural equipment.
And watching over it all stands Trumpius Caesar:
Imperator of the Gas Pumps.
Protector Truckorum.
Defensor Farmerorum.
Conqueror Taxorum.
And now,
Pontifex Maximus Rubri Dieselii.
Ancient emperors distributed bread.
Trumpius distributes diesel.
Ancient Caesars wore purple robes.
Trumpius puts the color in the fuel.
And should diesel prices rise again, the Imperium Americanum now possesses something far more valuable than a comprehensive long-term energy strategy:
a color chart.
Because under Trumpius Caesar, apparently America does not need a new energy policy.
It just needs more colors.
