Rockets, Hitler, Hate and the Return of the Twilight of the Gods – Trump’s Most Dangerous Moment

A president who wants to fire rockets over California. A vice president who defends chat messages about Hitler, and chats that call rape epic. America, a country that has long since lost its compass.

Donald Trump has ordered a spectacle for the weekend that seems surreal even by the standards of his presidency. Under the title "Sea to Shore - A Review of Amphibious Strength," Navy warships and 15,000 Marines are to assemble along the California coast, accompanied by a large-scale live-fire demonstration. The entire event will be filmed by the White House Production Office and broadcast nationwide on November 9 - officially as a celebration of the Marine Corps’ 250th anniversary, but in reality as a political performance.

Preparations were chaotic. On Wednesday, the office of Governor Gavin Newsom announced plans to close parts of Interstate 5 between Orange County and San Diego for safety reasons. Reports that Navy ships might fire live ammunition over the highway onto Camp Pendleton’s grounds caused outrage and fear. Only after massive criticism and direct inquiries to the Pentagon did the Marine Corps declare late in the evening that the I-5 would remain open.

"Now that the highway remains open, we hope the Trump administration applies the same common sense to finally reopening the federal government," Newsom’s office said. The tone was mocking, but the message clear: even on security issues, there is disorder at the center of power.

The correction came too late to repair the loss of trust. Local authorities had already prepared emergency plans. California’s transportation secretary Edward Barrera spoke of "potential scenarios" communicated by the federal government that would have required a closure. The entire incident exposed the lack of coordination between Sacramento, Washington, and the military – and a political culture that values performance over responsibility. Camp Pendleton itself, a 125,000-acre base and training ground for amphibious missions since World War II, stands as a symbol of this tension. While the Department of Defense considers opening parts of the area for civilian or commercial development, the White House is using the same ground as a stage for military self-display.

Vice President J.D. Vance, the first Marine veteran to hold the office, will lead the event, flanked by Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth. According to official statements, 15,000 Marines, veterans, and family members are expected. The Marine Corps press service speaks of an "amphibious review to demonstrate defense readiness," but the wording sounds like it came from a script: "The planned training activities ensure our ability to defend the homeland and protect the nation’s interests at home and abroad – against today’s and tomorrow’s challenges."

While California is tense, the moral dimension is escalating in Washington. Because it is precisely J.D. Vance, the man leading the parade of power this weekend, who is entangled in a second scandal – this time not military, but human.

Vance, who once portrayed himself as the voice of the "forgotten Americans," has shown in recent days that his loyalty is no longer to people but to power itself. On this day, Vance, in an interview on The Charlie Kirk Show – the program that continues without its deceased namesake but remains boundlessly radical and extremist – defended the so-called "Hitler chats" from within the Young Republicans – chats in which people joked about gas chambers, downplayed lynching, and used sexual violence as a punchline. He spoke of "overblown outrage" and repeated his formula: "Young men do stupid things."

In a tweet about it, which left even conservative commentators stunned, he wrote:

"Grow up! Focus on the real issues. Don’t focus on what kids say in group chats... The truth is, kids do stupid things, especially young boys – they make edgy, offensive jokes. That’s what kids do."

But these people were not kids. They were paid communications consultants, local party chairs, lawyers, staffers for members of Congress – people who keep the machinery of his party running. They are part of the structure that drafts laws, manages campaigns, and shapes narratives. Those who joke about Hitler or call rape "epic" from such positions do not just define the tone of the right – they define its moral DNA.

Vance did what he always does in such moments: he moved the goalposts. By treating these men like teenage boys, he shifted the boundary of what counts as a mistake. Responsibility became immaturity; ideology became jest. It was perhaps the most dangerous excuse by a senior politician in years – not because it was foolish, but because it was calculated.

And the chat world of the "Young Republicans" continues. Among them is a thread with Bobby Walker, vice chair of the New York State Young Republicans and a close ally of Mike Johnson and the late Charlie Kirk. In one of the leaked chats, Walker described a rape as "epic." A conversation that began with the sentence "The Spaniards came to America and slept with every single woman" and ended with the response "It was rape" was met by Walker with just one word: "Epic." – One is simply left speechless.

Such messages are no longer side notes. They reflect a culture in which violence is trivialized, empathy is mocked, and moral boundaries are seen only as weakness. While ships are being positioned for a "show of strength" on the Pacific coast, a different kind of decay is unfolding in Washington – one that no helmet can conceal. The vice president who will review tank formations this weekend is, in the same days, defending people who laugh about the death of children.

This attitude – the coldness toward weakness, the indifference toward responsibility – runs like a red thread through the Trump-Vance administration. As they block streets for military pageantry and use rockets as patriotic props, they leave millions of citizens without pay, without security, and without trust. The connection between these events is no coincidence. It reveals the essence of this power: a cynicism that confuses strength with spectacle and responsibility with showmanship.

In the end, one image remains: a sea of steel, a president directing the cameras, and a vice president smiling while the moral ground collapses beneath them. Camp Pendleton may be the home of the Marines – but this weekend it becomes the symbol of a republic that no longer draws its strength from principles but from projection. One day, people may look back on this week – the rockets, the parades, the tweets – and realize that the moral collapse of a nation did not begin with a bang, but with a great deal of applause.