On the day millions of Americans filled the streets chanting “No Kings,” the President of the United States responded not with words of restraint or reflection, but with a grotesque digital spectacle.
On Saturday, as roughly seven million protesters rallied across 2,600 cities and towns in what became the largest single-day demonstration in American history, Donald Trump took to his Truth Social account to post an AI-generated video of himself wearing a gold crown and flying in a fighter jet labeled “King Trump.” In the clip, he soars above a cityscape resembling both New York and Chicago, dumping feces over massive crowds to the soundtrack of “Danger Zone.”
The post, amplified by the official White House X account complete with laughing emojis, marked one of the most jarring presidential communications in modern times.
Shortly before that, the White House posted an image of Trump and Vice President J.D. Vance wearing crowns beside Democrats Hakeem Jeffries and Chuck Schumer in sombreros. The caption read,
We’re built different. Have a good night, everyone. 👑
Trump also shared another clip — this one in stark black and white. In it, he appears wearing a crown and a royal robe, wielding a sword over a group of kneeling Democratic politicians.
That came only hours after a Fox Business interview in which Trump insisted, “I’m not a king.” The posts turned that denial into farce, blurring the line between provocation, propaganda, and parody — widely seen as a bleak testament to how low the nation’s moral and intellectual standards have fallen.
The Cheering Section
“Effective Satire”
If the video itself was shocking, some of the reactions from inside Trump’s circle were downright bewildering.
Perhaps the most startling came from Steven Cheung, assistant to the president and White House communications director, who confirmed that what some media outlets shyly called “brown liquid” or “sludge” was, in fact, what it really looked like,
Shi**ing all over these No Kings losers!
For the man officially tasked with shaping the public voice of the presidency, the language was extraordinary. Yet within the Trump ecosystem, it barely raised an eyebrow.
House Speaker Mike Johnson (La.), the highest-ranking Republican in Congress, also came to the president’s defense. When asked what it meant that Trump had released a video of himself “pooping” on American citizens, Johnson replied with a smirk:
You can argue he’s probably the most effective person who has ever used social media [to make a point]. He is using satire to make a point. He is not calling for the murder of his political opponents.
In other words, what once would have ended political careers now passes as a clever communication strategy.
“Trolling”
Among prominent right-wing influencers, the tone was the same mix of cruelty and celebration. Benny Johnson, a conservative media personality, applauded the post as “troll[ing] every single ‘NO KINGS’ protester.”
Another supporter admitted the clip was “juvenile and crude,” but added, “We tried electing nice guys. Didn’t work.”
One commentator captured the mood more plainly:
I voted for this. It is even more beautiful of a sh*tpost than I could even have imagined.
Another accused “the libs” in having no sense of humor:
You liberals can’t take a joke. And you certainly can’t control the King. LOL.
The chorus of admiration was relatively small but loud, a digital mob cheering the desecration of dissent at the highest level of government.
In that light, the video’s grotesque imagery took on new meaning — less an act of arrogance than a performance for those who see contempt as strength and mockery as wit. For them, politics is not persuasion but domination, and the uglier it gets, the more “powerful” it feels.
Critical Reactions
Is This Real?
If the president’s loyalists treated the post as a triumph of “trolling” and ruthless “humor,” the rest of the country saw something closer to national humiliation.
Many Americans first assumed the video was fake. One comment captured the disbelief:
This post is unbelievable. I first thought it is fake. But no, it was really posted on the account of Donald Trump, himself.
Once verified, the reaction spread like wildfire. Words like “disgusting” and “insane” dominated social media. Commentators from both parties called the video “beyond poor taste” and raised alarm over the president’s state of mind. News outlets hesitated between outrage and dark amusement. “Epitome of pure trashiness,” said The Daily Dot.
Across the political spectrum, critics framed the moment as a collapse of civic dignity.
“Imagine the exploding heads at Fox News if Biden had posted himself sh*tting on MAGAts,” one user wrote. He, like numerous other commentators, suggested the immediate invocation of the 25th Amendment.
Others reached for history:
And in the 250th year of the American republic, the official [White House] account posted a video of the US president dressed as a king and sh*tting on Americans.
Authoritarian Signals
Scholars of authoritarianism saw a deeper signal. Ruth Ben-Ghiat, historian and author of the book Strongmen, wrote:
[Trump’s post is] an accurate representation of how this kind of leader really feels about those he governs.
She added that autocrats “starve,” “jail,” and “impoverish” people “because they feel scorn for humanity.”
Former U.S. ambassador to Russia and Stanford Professor Michael McFaul echoed the sentiment:
As a once proud American, I am embarrassed that any US citizen would post such a video, let alone the president of our country.
From abroad, Swedish journalist Daniel Swedin noted the contrast with global counterparts:
Hard to imagine leaders like Xi Jinping or [Brazilian president] Lula da Silva posting AI videos full of faeces to dock their own cities.
Commentators on television and online forums spoke of a presidency descending into “idiocracy.” A Tennessee podcaster called on the media not to “sanewash it.”
And one user, summing up the overwhelming frustration, posted:
Americans are struggling with massive job loss, increased inflation, expanding surveillance, a militarized police with federal agents patrolling our streets, and no f*cking healthcare. And yet some will cheer on this divisive, childish nonsense like it’s a win. Embarrassing.
Authoritarian Drift
For many, the video was not just obscene — it was revealing. Indeed, the same instinct that shaped its imagery also largely defines Trump’s second term.
His administration increasingly rules through force and fear: military deployments for domestic policing, expanding surveillance under the banners of “immigration enforcement,” and an ever-broader embrace of censorship. Through executive decrees, Trump has revived the pre-crime logic of the Patriot Act, treating dissent as potential crime.
At the same time, the administration is building what critics call a “digital control grid.” This is a system that includes an AI-managed bureaucracy, master databases on Americans compiled by CIA contractor Palantir, REAL IDs, and the coming corporate-run digital dollar.
The part of the ideology behind this machinery traces back to Project 2025 and its intellectual architect Russ Vought, head of the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) and one of Trump’s most trusted enforcers. The project’s goal, openly stated, is to strengthen the executive branch by weakening the legislative.
Abroad, the same alarming pattern plays out. Far from ending “forever wars,” Trump has tasked the CIA with operations in Venezuela while deepening U.S. involvement in Ukraine and Gaza.
Techno King
The other part of this ideology comes not from Washington, but from Silicon Valley — from tech oligarchs and digital theorists who dream of rule by code.
Indeed, a growing faction within Trump’s orbit has absorbed the language of Curtis Yarvin’s “Dark Enlightenment,” a philosophy that rejects republican norms in favor of hierarchy and efficiency under a single ruler. In Yarvin’s vision, the ideal government is a “startup state,” run by a CEO-style dictator.
The idea’s most prominent proponents are Elon Musk and Peter Thiel, both major Trump donors whose influence now spans technology, finance, and politics. Both have echoed Yarvin’s admiration for “founder authority” and invested in technologies that advance it — AI systems that predict behavior, social media and digital currencies that shape it, and private infrastructure built to replace public trust.
The unitary executive detailed in Project 2025 feels like the political version of this techno-monarchy: centralized, data-driven, and beyond accountability. Seen in that light, the AI video — a king dumping waste on his subjects — is more than grotesque humor. It is the emblem of a new order where contempt and control converge, where the spectacle of domination is mistaken for leadership.
A West Virginia podcaster known online as Hackable Animal suggested that the entire protest movement was “actually a normalization campaign [covertly] funded by Trump’s backers” to set up his third term. Whether true or not, the claim reflects a growing belief that political narratives — from both the administration and its ostensible opposition — may serve the same end: conditioning the public to accept the unacceptable.
