Donald Trump has done it again - announcing plans to build his own triumphal arch in Washington. Not for veterans, presidents, or the American people. No, for himself. "It’s going to be beautiful," he said, and you could almost hear the concrete begin to smile.
According to the president’s imagination, the "Arc de Trump" is to rise somewhere between the Lincoln Memorial and self-glorification - a white and gold arch through which probably only those will be allowed to pass who have previously signed an NDA and liked his reelection post on Truth Social. The construction plans are secret, the financing as well. Maybe Mexico will pay. Maybe the taxpayers. Maybe no one will, and the monument will remain as invisible as Trump’s tax returns.

One can imagine the inauguration: a parade of former cabinet members accompanied by a choir of disgraced lawyers. Rudy Giuliani holds the scissors, Melania throws the first stone, and in the distance Kid Rock plays the national anthem while on stage an oversized portrait of the president is unveiled - made of pure gold, of course, engraved with "Thank me later." The Arc de Trump would be the perfect monument for an era that celebrates itself while it burns. A monument of misunderstandings: erected in the name of patriotism, built from vanity, financed by illusion. Maybe it is meant as a substitute for the destroyed trust in institutions - a shining memorial to the fact that self-love has become America’s state ideology.

One might laugh if it were not so serious. The man who already named a tower after himself now wants an arch that literally stands above everything. Who will be allowed to pass through it, no one knows - but the path probably leads straight to the next fundraiser in Mar-a-Lago. Maybe, and that would be the best part of the whole story, the Arc de Trump will never be built. Maybe it will remain what it is: an architectural daydream of vanity and concrete dust, a sculpture of self-deception that exists only in its creator’s imagination. Because nothing sums up the Trump era better than a monument that never gets finished.
And if it ever does stand one day - then hopefully crooked.
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Ich erinnere mich da einen narzisstischen Soziopathen…. 1933… Deutschland.
Der wollte sich auch so einen Triumphbogen bauen.
Zum Glück blieb es beim „wollen“.
Erschreckend diese fast 1:1 Parallelen.
Aber danke Rainer, dass der Beitrag mir trotzdem viele Lacher entlockte.
Dein Schreibstil ist klasse.