Across the empire’s harbors, Trumpius Caesar has delivered a decree of great importance: October belongs to seafood. Fishermen shall be honored, ports shall prosper, and the fish—though not consulted—shall receive the full majesty of imperial attention.
The proclamation declares food security to be national security. The humble cod, once content to appear on a dinner plate, has now been promoted to a pillar of American independence. Somewhere beneath the waves, a shrimp may be wondering whether it needs a security clearance before joining the national fleet.
Trumpius Caesar praises America’s fishermen as hardy heroes who brave rough seas and punishing storms to support their families and communities. It is difficult work, requiring skill, patience, and a strong tolerance for being surrounded by fish that never applaud the speeches. The imperial message is clear: these workers deserve recognition—and perhaps a commemorative plaque sturdy enough to survive a lobster.
The proclamation says the American seafood industry harvests nearly 8.5 billion pounds of food each year, supports more than a million jobs, and fuels over $173 billion in commerce. Numbers of such grandeur could make even a tuna pause mid-swim to admire the economy. Under Trumpius Caesar’s vision, the ocean is not merely wet. It is a vast marketplace with excellent branding and a rather large inventory.
The Emperor also points to steps taken by his administration to strengthen the industry. Commercial fishing access has been restored to additional areas of the Atlantic and Pacific. Quotas have risen for Atlantic bluefin tuna and mackerel, while the West Coast salmon season has returned after three years without a full commercial fishery. Federal assistance has also gone to fishing communities recovering from major losses, improving shoreside infrastructure, and helping workers retrain.
And then comes the promise of a Golden Age of seafood production. Regulations, says the proclamation, will be reduced so fishermen can invest in their fleets, expand their businesses, and keep more of what they earn. This is welcome news for working ports—and possibly for paperwork, which may soon find itself unemployed and drifting gently toward the horizon.
Trumpius Caesar imagines thriving harbors, successful businesses, and coastal communities where the next generation can build a life and pursue its share of the American Dream. Perhaps that dream includes a boat, a family business, and a lobster elevated from luxury entrée to reliable economic partner.
Finally, the Emperor calls upon all Americans to mark October with suitable events and ceremonies. Expect speeches, seafood dinners, and ceremonial napkins of impressive quality. Whether the fish themselves will attend remains uncertain. Trumpius Caesar has dedicated a whole month to them; they may now discover that imperial recognition comes with a reservation at the banquet.
