Washingtonium, Imperium Americanum. In less than two years, Donaldus Trumpius Maximus Caesar Primus, Guardian of the Borders, Conqueror of Bureaucracy, Master of Oil, Defender of Milk, and Most Humble Architect of Human Prosperity, has apparently accomplished what lesser rulers would need several centuries, three revolutions, and at least one functioning Congress to achieve.
According to the Imperial Palace, America has not merely improved.
America has been rescued, restored, rebuilt, reinforced, energized, defended, detoxified, deregulated, and magnificently Trumpified.
All at once.
Because ordinary governing is for presidents.
Trumpius governs in marble.
The official Imperial Chronicle therefore announces its modest verdict:
Promised. Delivered. Conquered. Probably personally supervised.
The Great Wall of Trumpius
When Trumpius Caesar returned to the throne, the Palace says he inherited an empire approximately six minutes away from total civilization collapse.
The border?
Open.
The economy?
Destroyed.
The military?
Insufficiently glorious.
Energy?
Not dominant enough.
And somewhere, presumably, a federal employee was still using a coffee mug without the words AMERICA FIRST printed on it.
This could not stand.
Trumpius raised the Imperial Hand.
“CLAUDITE PORTAS!”
Close the gates!
And behold: according to the royal scribes, illegal crossings collapsed, deportations expanded, criminals were arrested, visas were revoked, and the southern frontier became stronger than at any point since mankind first discovered the fence.
Cartels were branded terrorist organizations, enforcement intensified, and immigration policy evolved into a spectacular combination of Roman campaign, police procedural, and campaign commercial.
Trumpius had secured the gates.
The barbarians, according to the Palace, were suitably impressed.
Crime Falls — And the Fountains Rise
But Caesar does not concern himself merely with borders.
A true emperor also thinks about fountains.
The Imperial Chronicle boasts that murder rates have fallen dramatically, thousands of offenders have been arrested, and Washingtonium itself has become safer.
But perhaps the greatest symbol of restored civilization is that monuments, statues, parks, and fountains have also received imperial attention.
Rome built aqueducts.
Trumpius repairs decorative water features.
Historians will eventually determine which achievement was greater.
Some scholars are already afraid to answer.
Pecunia! Money for the People!
With the frontier secured and the fountains presumably bubbling majestically, Trumpius turned his golden gaze toward the economy.
And immediately:
Factories appeared.
Taxes fell.
Investments arrived.
Jobs multiplied.
Markets rejoiced.
And prescription drug prices apparently became so frightened by the Imperial Seal that they began moving downward on their own.
The Empire proudly presents new Trump Accounts for children, providing young Americans with investment funds and financial opportunity.
Ancient emperors left roads.
Trumpius leaves brokerage accounts.
Progress.
Meanwhile, according to the Palace, more than $11 trillion in investment commitments have flowed toward the American Empire.
Appleus.
Amazonicus.
Foreign kingdoms.
Wealthy desert monarchies.
Everyone arrives bearing treasure.
The message is clear:
Capital no longer simply enters America.
Capital kneels before Trumpius.
Pax Trumpiana: Peace Through Maximum Modesty
Having solved economics before lunch, Trumpius turned toward international affairs.
Here, too, the Imperial historians report nothing short of supernatural efficiency.
Trumpius has reportedly helped end or resolve eight wars and conflicts.
Eight.
Alexander the Great conquered kingdoms.
Julius Caesar conquered Gaul.
Trumpius apparently settles geopolitical disputes somewhere between breakfast television and the first golf tee.
The Empire even created a Board of Peace, because apparently ordinary peace was too small and insufficiently branded.
NATO allies were pressured to spend more on defense, prompting future mosaics to depict Trumpius standing aboard a golden chariot while European leaders follow behind carrying giant sacks marked:
5%.
A chorus of imperial accountants sings softly in Latin.
Oil! Gas! Coal! And Then More Oil!
Next came energy.
Oil production?
Record.
Natural gas?
Record.
Exports?
Record.
Liquefied natural gas?
Record.
At some point, even the White House coffee machine probably reported record output.
Trumpius claims an era of American energy dominance, where drilling becomes not merely industrial policy but a patriotic sacrament.
Oil wells rise.
Pipelines hum.
Gas flows.
Coal returns wearing ceremonial armor.
The administration particularly celebrates access to vast Venezuelan oil resources, measured in tens of billions of barrels.
Enough fuel, presumably, to power the Imperial motorcade until the year 4876.
“Beautiful clean coal” has also returned to the royal vocabulary.
Only in the Empire of Trumpius can the words beautiful, clean, and coal occupy the same sentence without requiring mediation.
Bureaucracy Meets the Imperial Axe
Then came Washington’s bureaucracy.
Regulations vanished.
Agencies shrank.
Federal employment fell.
Billions, according to the administration, were saved.
The federal workforce has reportedly reached its lowest levels in decades.
Some government departments may now consist primarily of one employee, a printer, and an automated voicemail system.
Trumpius calls this:
Efficiency.
Employees may call it:
“Has anyone seen Gary? He used to approve everything.”
But Gary has apparently been deregulated.
Trumpius Defines Reality
An emperor cannot simply govern reality.
He must also explain what reality is.
Thus Trumpius moved aggressively against federal diversity, equity, gender, and inclusion programs, announcing the return of what the Palace repeatedly calls common sense.
This administrative philosophy has one particularly useful feature:
The ruler proclaiming “common sense” also gets to determine what common sense means.
No committee required.
No consultation necessary.
Extremely efficient.
Possibly the most deregulated form of philosophy ever invented.
The Imperial Revolution Reaches Lunch
Eventually the Trumpius restoration reached an institution previously thought beyond presidential authority:
the refrigerator.
Food companies were encouraged to remove artificial dyes.
Federal nutrition guidance emphasized whole and minimally processed foods.
Whole milk returned to schools.
Prescription drugs were targeted through new pricing programs.
Thus Trumpius now presides over immigration, military strategy, energy production, medicine, federal employment, foreign wars, and school beverages.
Only one major regulatory frontier remains:
pancake thickness.
An executive order is surely being drafted.
And the Winner Is… Trumpius
After all these triumphs, the Imperial Chronicle arrives at a conclusion nobody could possibly have predicted.
America is winning again.
Why?
Trumpius.
Border secured?
Trumpius.
Jobs created?
Trumpius.
Drugs cheaper?
Trumpius.
Oil flowing?
Trumpius.
Wars ending?
Trumpius.
Milk restored?
Obviously Trumpius.
Should a family in Ohio wake up Saturday morning and discover clear skies, the White House will likely issue a statement before Sunday dinner:
“President Trump Delivers Historic Sunshine to the American People.”
And Donaldus Trumpius Maximus Caesar Primus will step onto the balcony of his palace, gaze across the empire, raise one hand toward the heavens, and declare:
“I inherited clouds. I delivered sunshine. Nobody has ever done weather better.”
The Senate falls silent.
The people stare upward.
The imperial trumpets sound.
Trumpius smiles.
Veni. Vidi. Tweeti.
