The March to Democracy: 47th President of the USA
On January 20, 2025, all global media outlets brought the news of Donald Trump’s return to the White House after a four-year break. The information market had been fueling anticipation for Trump’s Inauguration for so long that the very “event” faded upon his arrival. Of course, we all expected something grand, but, alas, amidst the enormous hype, the most “great” “event” drowned in the old Rotunda Hall, which turned out to be too small for the bourgeoisie who had purchased tickets to this event. With each new guest’s arrival, the Rotunda, once a symbol of the grandeur of bourgeois triumph, lost more and more of its former splendor, ultimately turning into a miserable tin can packed with aristocratic “sardines,” who apparently believed that their tightness was a sign of elitism. Though the guests were clearly cramped and uncomfortable, as true adherents of the cult of old traditions, they bore their discomfort with genuine pride, considering themselves part of the “small” and “exclusive” circle of modern American aristocracy, where every drop of sweat seemingly only confirmed their special belonging to high society. The leading global media, like faithful lackeys of the bourgeoisie, filled the airwaves with noise, useless chatter, and endless trivial discussions about the “important” guests, their outfits, and behavior, as if the color of their suits and the style of their hats determined the fate of the world. First and foremost, of course, we were all incredibly lucky, especially the USA, that the “strategic” and “most important” partners of the “superpower”—Italy and Argentina—managed to carve out time in their busy schedules to attend such a grand “event.” After all, how could it be otherwise? Without traditional Italian pasta and Sicilian wine, which seemingly form the foundation of the American economy, the entire structure of American might would collapse in an instant (!)
Donald Trump presents himself to the world with a distinctive appearance that immediately draws attention. His hair, styled with an elegance that seems to require significant effort, reflects an ambition to impress but instead highlights artificiality. His face, constantly displaying a mix of self-satisfaction and tense expectation, appears to be trying to convince those around him of his own importance. His chin, slightly pushed forward, seems meant to emphasize determination but at times only enhances an impression of stubbornness rather than firmness. His somewhat heavyset figure appears to be a symbol of steadfastness, but there is also something theatrical about it, as if every gesture and step is calculated for spectacle rather than purpose. His gaze drifts between arrogant confidence and an involuntary misunderstanding of the situation, creating the image of a man who attempts to control events without grasping their complexity.
Trump’s voice, deep and abrupt, seems to deliberately draw attention to each of his words, yet the intonations, designed for drama, sometimes turn serious statements into farce. His manner of speaking is a mix of confidence and spontaneity, which, however, often betrays a lack of deep thought. He speaks as a man convinced of his own uniqueness, but his words do not always confirm this impression. If Woodrow Wilson, as Keynes wrote, “seemed the embodiment of morality, but that morality was captive to its own illusions,” then Trump appears more as a figure whose energy and charisma mask emptiness. He lacks the tragic grandeur that accompanies a true leader, but there is something grotesque, farcical, as if he has become the main character of a drama that no one rehearsed. Europe, expecting intellectual strength and clarity of action, encountered something entirely different. Instead of the architect of a new world order, it received a man whose decisions seem to be born from a random confluence of impulses.
“Drive the Mexicans away!”—this is the new battle cry of the defenders of indestructible capitalism. “They are to blame for all our troubles! Beat them, drown them, chop them up with propeller blades, shoot them—just make sure it’s in the canyons and with a spark! And the experience of Mussolini’s kin will certainly come in handy for this noble cause!” However, incidentally, the “Mexican plague” against which Donald Trump plans to throw his massive forces numbers around 4–5 million people. For comparison: there are about 15–20 million Italians in the USA (that is, 6–8% of the population), which is three times more! It is interesting—why did these “sons of Rome” not become the target of such decisive actions? Perhaps because they have long and successfully integrated into the system, supplying the American market with their goods and cultural heritage. In Italy itself, by the way, there are slightly more Italians—around 55 million. But it is not pasta and wine that threaten capitalism; it is those who, struggling to survive, try to find a place in the world. Naturally, America, this flagship of capitalist emptiness, could not do without a professional charlatan-sex coach like Javier Milei, now President of Argentina. After all, the USA is practically a fairy-tale “marshmallow cloud” for workers who think only about how to arrange their sex life instead of considering how to cover their crushing debts for insurance, taxes, mortgages, medical bills, and other joys of capitalism. The irony of the situation is overwhelming: a man whose career began with banal “coaching” in bed is now allegedly involved in shaping international policy, invited to the inauguration as if his past “trainings” had become the foundation for solving global problems.
Let’s not dwell too long on Boris Johnson, who was assigned a place in the background, or on George Bush, who, as always, remains cheerful and optimistic even during national-scale terrorist attacks. The eternally dissatisfied Clinton family, as usual, demonstrated their superiority, while Biden, having played the role of “the Moor,” can now peacefully retire so as not to distract from the farce. And, of course, among this company, the billionaires hold a special place. Zuckerberg, as a symbol of the digital age, once again made a name for himself with his attentiveness to “important details,” staring at the cleavage of Bezos’s companion. It seems that even in moments of “capitalist greatness,” its representatives find ways to be distracted from the illusory significance of their own roles.
Elon Musk behaved as always in his usual style, as if he had just returned from Mars. His constant bouncing resembled a lingering habit of “weak planetary gravity.”
Elon Musk, this self-proclaimed “god of technology,” always manages to surpass expectations with his manner of shocking. His “Martian bounces” and raised thumbs-up were not enough—he decided to bring “classical heritage” into our time. At the stadium, he proudly threw what is referred to in modern terminology as the “Roman salute,” though, to be honest, we all understand that this gesture has long carried a far more sinister name: “Heil Hitler.”
What deep irony of history: Musk, this supposedly progressive symbol of the future, turns to a gesture that, by all rules, should have been consigned to the dustbin of the past. But isn’t this precisely bourgeois hypocrisy? To rename, wash away the dirty stains of history, and present them as something respectable so that the crowd, without thinking, applauds in delight. The stadium became the perfect stage for this farce. Where else but in a cheering crowd could one so confidently resurrect a gesture that once cast a shadow over entire generations? By presenting it under the guise of historical “Roman” classicism, Musk apparently decided that the fans of his rockets and electric cars would gladly swallow this too. And, it seems, he was not mistaken—capitalism has always known how to turn tragedy into profit. The presidential inauguration—this symbol of capitalist triumph—is marked by the absurd forgetfulness of the entire world about the global economic and political crisis, social contradictions, wars, fires, floods, etc. It is a time when the world, through corporate media, focuses on truly important things: the extravagance of the ceremony, the guests’ outfits, and, of course, the cuisine, without which no bourgeois gathering is complete!
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