I am Emperor Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus Caligula, successor of Tiberius, Son of the Divine Germanicus, and Supreme Commander and Holder of Tribunician Power, Pontifex Maximus. And I decree, in regard to the upcoming White House UFC event…
It’s a bit much, right? Like even for me. Pretty gauche, no?
Caged brutes pummeling one another bloody on the historic lawn of the Executive Mansion? All to celebrate President Trump’s birthday?
Come on, what are we doing here?
I might have been guilty of some runaway self-indulgence from time to time. I mean, I used to literally drink pearls and once declared war on Neptune.
But is America really going to sully its iconic symbol of democracy with Dana White’s CTE speedrun machine? Why can’t Trump keep his bloodsport / ego strokefest in the coliseum where it belongs? This whole ordeal is really giving mad kings a bad name.
And what’s next? Pete Hegseth’s hardcore backyard wrestling in the rose garden? How about a JD Vance dunk tank on the south lawn? Or Stephen Miller as a carnival geek biting heads off live chickens and guessing immigrants’ weights? I’m just saying, this is beneath the most sacred of America’s institutions.
I know this might seem surprising coming from me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to bread and circuses. But considering that the price of bread is currently skyrocketing, Trump spending millions on a red-white-and-blue-drenched octagon is a real slap in the face to John Q. Plebeian.
Besides, there’s an appropriate time and a place for brutality and violence. It’s like I was saying to my trusted advisor/horse the other day: The orgies stay on the orgy ships, and the beheadings and burnings stay in the gladiator arenas, or the prisons, or the slave quarters, or sometimes on the orgy ships. But I don’t spill blood at home. For one, that’s where all my stuff is. And two, I like to keep business and pleasure separate. Mostly…
Of course, maybe I’m expecting too much from the modern world. As you can imagine, things were very different in Ancient Rome during my four-year rule. Allow me to set the scene:
I was a megalomaniac leader completely unmoored from reality. I declared war on the environment. I led many unsuccessful invasions and declared victory anyway. I built monuments to myself and insisted that my minions worship me as their god. I engaged in heinous sex acts and even lusted after my blood relatives. And finally, I routinely humiliated senators and political adversaries with childish nicknames like “Little” Marco Naevius, “Sleepy” Tiberius, and “Crooked” Cassius Chaerea.
Again, everything I’ve just described must be completely foreign to the United States in 2026.
Also, the majority of Roman citizens celebrated my eventual assassination. Not sure if there are any parallels there…
Regardless, the concept of restraint is timeless. While I am obviously 100 percent on board with the ruling class engaging in debauched carnality and unpunished murder (is that still a thing in 2026?), please, let’s try to keep it classy.
