A SMAC in the Face #98: Does Size Matter or How You Hold It?

There is no ceiling to Trump’s character flaws.  Is his desire to have the glitziest or biggliest or largest just part of his crass and puerile showmanship because he’s not very bright and it’s the only game he knows: or does he suffer from inadequacy issues? 

We saw recently how in awe he was of the Emir of Qatar’s cast-off luxury jet which was a younger model than his and was more tastefully decorated in gold than his clunkier old jet.  It seems to parallel his trading in of wives for younger models until he ended up with the most transactional and iciest of them all.  Judging by the body language, he’s not getting any nooky at home and since he can’t grab them by the kitty cat or spend his down time with porn stars anymore, he’s taken to groping the US flag and even kissing it.  So being the self-crowned Midas king of bad taste and MAGA, it is natural that he desired a public display of the erection of the mightiest symbol, the US flag on the largest flagpole he could afford.  In a cringeworthy televised vaudeville act he supervised the exxxxxxx of his gift to America.  He thought he was very clever referring to the e-word multiple times and saying that he couldn’t say it, nudge, nudge, wink, wink.  What a raconteur this man thinks he is.  Apart from its height of 88ft (26,8m) or 100ft (30,5m), depending on the report, he waxed lyrical and spewed unsubstantiated superlatives about the attributes of his erection to the fawning reporters so perhaps we should put it into perspective.-

What many SMAC consumers don’t know is that SMAC moonlights (or is it the other way around) as a hack historian on Port Elizabeth.  The heights commanding the Port Elizabeth CBD and harbour are known as the Donkin Reserve and can arguably be considered the founding point of the town.  It was here that the Acting Governor of the Cape Colony, Sir Rufane Donkin, designated the surrounding area to be known as Port Elizabeth, named after his beloved late wife Elizabeth, and erected a pyramid as a memorial to her.  Astute readers will note that I do not refer to Gqeberha as that was just a general name given to the area by the Khoi en route from one pastoral gig to another and they weren’t hanging around to erect pyramids and do civic stuff. (Miaow) He also declared that the area was to remain unencumbered.  Apart from the lighthouse, it remained so until the 2010 Soccer World Cup and, also suffering from inadequacy issues, the Council decided to erect the largest flagpole in South Africa.  It is 60m (later increased to 68m) and carries a huge flag of 12m x 5m.

That trumps your flagging ego, Donald!

PS. The world’s tallest flagpole at 201m is in Cairo, just another shithole African country.  Port Elizabeth’s doesn’t even make the top 50, so where does that leave Trump’s much talked about erection?

A SMAC in the Face #97:  Big Bad Don

By throwing his considerable heft around and through lies, blackmail and threats, Big, Bad Don, or the Bigliest Clown of the 21st Century, has managed to strongarm his BBB (Big Beautiful Bill) through both the House and the Senate.  But for the Republican Party, it might prove to be a Faustian bargain.  The BBB is like a BBL (Brazilian Butt Lift) and just as gross, or as Musk puts it, “a disgusting abomination”.  And just like the BBL, the misrepresentations by the promoters are not going to age well and the BBB is actually going to push America’s problem of a fiscal deficit over the edge into uncontrollable territory.

The BBB could ultimately prove to be the downfall of Malice in MAGAland’s idea of the new America.   Appropriately SMAC’s response is based on the 1961 country hit, which resonates with the MAGAlanders’ heroic John Wayne type outlook on life, and is titled, Big Bad Don.

If you go to BIG BAD JOHN ~ Jimmy Dean (1961) you can follow the original while reading SMACs lyrics.

(Ding Dong) (Ding Dong)

Every day, long after nine you could see him arrive.
He stood six foot one, weighed two forty five.
Kinda narrow at the shoulder and big at the hip
And everybody knew ya didn’t give no lip to Big Don.

(Ding Dong) (Ding Dong) Big Bad Don (Ding Dong)

Nobody seemed to know where Don called home.
He just flew around, golfed and stayed all alone.
Maligning people, he wasn’t at all shy.
If anyone opposed, he just said goodbye, the Big Don

Couldn’t have raped her, she was below par.
Then he got into a fight over a big porn star
And got a crushin’ blow when put on the stand
Said I’ll see ya later when I win my next hand, Big Don


(Ding Dong) (Ding Dong) Big Bad Don (Ding Dong)

Then the polls collapsed at the end of the next term,
But while the party cracked, big Don stood firm.
GOPers were saying this term is our last.
They all said they′d better jump fast, ‘cept Don

Through the lies and the smoke of his self-made hell
Shambled a bent old man, a hollowed-out shell,
Grabbed a 3-wood and hit the ball with a groan,
But he won the round ‘cos he played there alone, Big Don

(Ding Dong) (Ding Dong) Big Bad Don (Ding Dong)

A last throw of his dice, again attacked the Fed
But the GOPers said, “There’s an exit up ahead!”
As two twenty men escaped a political grave,
There′s one left they’re not going to save, big Don

With hammers and timbers they battened him down.
Still smoke and gas and bile belched from that clown.
The word salads and tangents came so thick and fast,
That even Fox dupes knew this was the end at last for Don

(Ding Dong) (Ding Dong) Big Bad Don (Ding Dong)

No third term, he was shunned and on his own.
Even Melania glared icily and left him alone.
Finally, his orange face became white and deadpan.
His epitaph read, ”Here lies a vain, stupid man.”

(Ding Dong) (Ding Dong) Big Bad Don (Ding Dong) (Ding Dong)

A SMAC in the Face #96: The Sharpie is Biglier than the Sword

It was Sunday, the 1st of September 2019 when Trump discovered his superpower. But perhaps we must backtrack a few days to give context.

On Wednesday 29 August 2019, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) gave Trump a briefing on hurricane Dorian, potentially a category 5, which was heading on a trajectory to smack into Florida 4 days hence. Since Donald responds well to pretty pictures, they had their Advisory 21 from 5am that morning, pictorially showing the predicted track, blown up and displayed on an easel in the Oval Orifice. He probably saw this as an opportunity to show up previous presidents’ responses to natural disasters and so cancelled his visit to Poland. He must have cogitated a bit more on it as the weekend approached since his reptilian brain probably only remembered the chart’s prediction showing it hitting just to the north of Mar-a-Lago and a bulge extending to the Gulf of Mexico on the other side of the dangly Florida appendix.

Without consulting FEMA again, after all he was the resident ‘stable genius’, he tweeted on Sunday, 1 September: “In addition to Florida – South Carolina, North Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama, will most likely be hit (much) harder than anticipated. Looking like one of the largest Hurricanes ever. Already category 5.” The panic that ensued in Alabama where Dorian was not expected caused the Alabama office of the National Weather Service to issue an advisory 20 minutes later that Alabama “will NOT see any impacts from Dorian”.


If he had just consulted Advisory 32 from 5am that morning, he would have seen that the prediction was for the hurricane to hook north and follow the eastern seaboard. He took so much flak that on Wednesday 4 September, he held a televised press meeting showing the original Advisory 21 only now mysteriously marked up with a Sharpie to extend the vague 4-5 day prediction to include a nibble of Alabama as justification and presented it as the original! Note that it is a Federal offence to alter an official weather map but that was meaningless to Trump. He was now God and he wielded his Sharpie heroically.

Fast forward to 2025 and his second presidency. In some ways he had it tougher than Moses. After all, while waiting for Slo Joe to pop his clogs, he had to wander around his golf courses for four whole years buttonholing everyone about the election fraud committed against himself. He got his way when Slo Joe showed that beathing and stumbling around were a highly overrated path to success and Trump was elected president for the second time. He and Project 2025 had used the interregnum wisely: They had completed their 1000+ page revolutionary MAGAfesto while he sharpened his Sharpie and practiced his erratic signature which looks like the movements of a demented squirrel on tik.

When he returned to his rightful place, he was mightily upset. His people had been worshipping false gods in Biden, Harris et al and had embraced heretical concepts like DEI, gender affirmation, climate change and immigrant cat eaters. He signed edict after edict to eradicate these concepts and lead his people back onto the path of MAGA righteousness. Moses issued 10 commandments. With Sharpie in hand, Trump issued 143 edicts in the first 100 days on the throne with 26 coming on the first day – suck on that Moses! It was a dirty job but someone had to do it.

A SMAC in the Face #95:  Angry Bird v. Looney Tunes

How unlucky can a country be.  America has the world’s richest man and world’s greatest con man, both with multiple factory defects and peculiar world views, reshaping their country by a quiet, or maybe not quiet, revolution.  They were best buddies, politically, but it was only a matter of time before the two superegos would fall out.      

While Musk’s tech bro and bozo-in-arms, Jeff Bezos of ALPHABET looked on bemused, the Twar of the Bozos broke out.  From the Alpha Pale to the Orange Man, from X to T, it ranged through the letters of the alphabet except for F, U, C, K and U.  It was naked aggression except for some of Trump’s letters which were written in CAPS.

Trump had given Elon the keys to the kingdom by making him top DOGE and told him to have fun.  Elon cried havoc and let slip his barely legal nerd minions who were still popping pimples while he popped pills at a prodigious rate.  Like pigs snuffling for truffles, they rooted out all vaguely DEI programs and appointments, no matter how deeply buried and canned years of institutional memory and important programs in the Federal system with the sweep of Elon’s chainsaw.  On 30 May it was time for Elon to return to try to save Tesla from a fate worse than a dead battery (or no battery at all thanks to Trump’s tariff war).  Trump thanked him and presented him with a Disney-esque golden key to the White (and Gold) House.

Meanwhile Trump was pushing his Opus Magnum, his 1000+ page Big Beautiful Bill or BBB. It is actually more prosaically a budget reconciliation bill, but with semantic infiltration, Trump has got everyone, even Democrats, to call it the BBB.  In fact, it is a toxic witches’ brew of every Republican’s personal wet dream and stuffed with pork to suit everyone’s taste.  But instead of decreasing the dangerously high Federal deficit, it looks to increase it and could reduce America to BBB investment grade.

Perhaps Musk felt lonely not being at the centre of the anarchistic vortex anymore or perhaps he was just allergic to B’s.  He fired his first broadside at Trump’s BBB calling it a “disgusting abomination” just after lunch with a side order of uppers on 3 June.  The bromance was dead.  Uncharacteristically Trump did not clap back.  It was only at midday on 5 June after a long night of Presidential briefings – binge watching Fox News – that he took the bait and issued a mild response.  A flurry of provocative Musk posts on X followed including asking for a new political party.  They traded stinging cross court returns like well-seasoned tennis pros with Trump threatening his government contracts which Musk petulantly returned with, “SpaceX will begin decommissioning its Dragon spacecraft immediately.”  At 3:10 Elon snapped and removed his musk to reveal his ace – the Epstein Files which hadn’t been released as promised because his ex-best buddy was in them. Whoa, the Big Mac and its sauce was sure to hit the fan but the Angry Bird was now the adult in the room.  Like an old married partner, he had given Musk the hot tongue, it was time for the cold bum and what a bum.   Looney Tunes continued the twar with no response until 7:30 when he folded – he had no more cards – bummer. 

There was silence in the virtual battlefield.  Musk realised that he had miscalculated.  Six days later in the dark lonely hours of 11 June at 3:00 am, Musk grovelled.

A SMAC in the Face #94:  American Heroes

Trump projects many laughable images of himself: One is as a devout Christian attending the odd service or selling Trump endorsed Bibles.  Another is as a great American patriot and hero

Probably the most iconic photograph in American history, as celebrated in their 3¢ stamp, was the raising of the flag on the top Mt Suribachi on the Japanese island of Iwo Jima in WWII.  This was the second last island to be conquered in their island-hopping campaign leading up to an assault on the Japanese homeland which luckily was not needed.  Iwo Jima proved to be their costliest assault in terms or percentages with 28700 casualties.  The casualty rate for the Marines was higher than 50%.  Of the six Marines in the photograph, three were killed within a few days.  Those men were patriots.  They were heroes.  Maybe they were reluctant, but they did what their country asked of them.

Is Trump a hero?  Categorically no.  In the 60’s during the depths of the Cold War, America was increasingly pulled into the shitshow that was Vietnam, part of the ex-French Indochina.  After the Korean War had stalemated in the 1950’s and the Cuban Missile crisis of 1962, this was where the rubber hit the road in stemming the spreading of the dictatorial dead hand of communism.  Did Trump heed the call to defend American values?  No.  He dodged the draft with the ludicrous and spurious claim of suffering from bone spurs put forward by a tame (or paid off) podiatrist.  My dad had his left leg visibly withered by polio.  Did that stop him from volunteering in WWII to serve in the Army and subsequently fight Rommel in the North African desert?  No.  It did not.  Men like that can be called heroes while Trump calls prisoners of war, losers.

79 years after Iwo Jima, Donald Trump was shot at during a campaign rally, a slight occupational hazard for politicians.  Being a school kid is probably more dangerous in America.  Boy, did he play it up!  Apart from Biden’s mumbling and stumbling, this signature event probably did more than anything to cement his second term.  He made sure that the image of him being covered by secret service agents, his blood-flecked ear and a flag in the background was publicised far and wide.  He subsequently hyped it by appearing at rallies with a huge white rectangular ‘wound’ covering, making sure that even people in the back rows could see what a hero he had been.  Was he a hero?  No.  The secret agents were.  For a pretty standard government salary, they are asked to become their charge’s live body armour and they did it without question.  And as for the ‘wound’, it was no more serious than a nick.  How can I say that, firstly, ears bleed profusely and there was scant evidence of that and, secondly, within a few days he had removed the over-the-top wound protection to reveal little sign that anything had happened.  Perhaps he is the Orange Jesus or has superpowers after all as a lot of his superhero images try to proclaim.  He also stated that he felt the hit against his head.  No such thing.  That was the sonic shock wave of the bullet.

And now we come full circle to the man whose patriotism is as fake as his bone spurs.  He recently claimed that Ukraine’s heroic defence against the invasion by a far larger foe intent on its destruction, and who targets its civilians as a matter of strategy and tortures them and prisoners of war, is merely like kids fighting.  This is truly a new low, even for him.

A SMAC in the Face #93: His Master’s Voice

Trump’s 2nd presidency has been unprecedented. This modern-day tyrant has ruled by bleating multiple times per day on his Truth Social social media platform. Hitler and Goebbels used radio, Trump uses the modern equivalents. By the 132-day mark, he had bleated 2262 times (17 per day), many of them in ALL CAPS. It’s a tool he has learnt to wield as it is 3x the rate he bleated during his first presidency.


He has backed these up with 100s of quasi-legal and illegal executive orders. His self-appointed task of reshaping America as been made easier by the fact that the Republicans control the House, the Senate and the Supreme court on top of the Presidency. Somehow Trump controls the Republicans. They either live in awe of him or in fear of him, but it is via Truth Social or the obsequious Fox News that he dominates them.

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A SMAC in the Face #92: Hair Force One

Trump was on the Qatar leg of his schmoozing of the Arabs in his creaking 35-year-plane that was beginning to sag and look a bit care worn.  She had been used by many men and had been around the block many times, indeed, the world. 

Landing at Doha, he spied the Emir’s discarded palace in-the-sky.  His shrivelled heart went out to the little, well not so little, plane sitting all alone, unwanted on her apron in the baking desert heat.  If he was in Egypt, he would have cried out, “Mummy, mummy, I want! Wah, wah!”, but since he wasn’t, he tried, “Daddy, daddy, I want!”  That didn’t work either.  After all, the manchild was the big daddy now.

Shame she was looking so forlorn with her taut 13-year-old body tastefully decked out in virginal white dripping with gold highlights.  All she needed was some kohl around the cockpit windows and she would look like a houri from the back streets of Cairo.  She might be a discard from the Emir’s harem, but he was smitten.  She was also more “impressive” being 6m longer than his old hag.  He just wanted to reach out and grab her by the, ahem, undercarriage.  Perhaps he could ask the Emir what her price was, after all every man has a price as he well knew.  He said a silent prayer to Mammon, crossed his wallet and touched his favourite old relic in his nether regions for luck.  He sent his bro, Steven Witkoff, man Friday and fellow billionaire, to discuss the bride price.  The Emir was flattered and decided to make it a gift saying that she was a fine ride and had only been lightly used. 

Back home the radical left scum were making a big hoo-ha and a brouhaha about his latest houri in Doha while RFK was distracting them with his MAHA.  Melania quietly voice messaged him in her sexy guttural Slavic accent that this would be a conflict of interest and that he must watch himself.  Ha-ha, he tried but he couldn’t see past his boep.  Trump was not deterred and hardened his resolve.  He closed the deal along with many others that were sure to give all his real estate and defence sector bros permanent hard-ons.  In his defence he quoted that age old Arab dictum that you don’t look a gift camel in the mouth (as it might spit in your face). The Emir had played him like a Qatar and was looking forward to at least four more peaceful years without US interference.  It was so easy.  It was like the colonists giving useless trinkets and glass beads to the tribes.  Give him a shiny gift, stroke his ego and you’ve got him by the sensitive bits.  (Ramaphosa tried to flatter him with a huge 14kg book on SA golf courses.  It didn’t work – he doesn’t read.)

Ok, ok, like all good fairy tales or bible stories, that’s not how it actually went down.

It had its genesis way back in the Obama era.  At the time of Trump’s victory in 2016, the Air Force was well underway with the final specification of two replacement planes based on the Boeing 747-8.  From the outside the presidential plane looks very similar to the commercial one, but under the skin it is a very different beast.  A major improvement was to be an air-air refuelling capability allowing the plane to remain in the air for more than a week until the food runs out or everyone shoots each other – could make a nice murder mystery thriller come to think of it.  Eager to prove himself to be the artful dealmaker that he touted himself to be, he complained that the $4.2bn price tag was too high and that they were to be delivered before the end of his term.  His bullying led to a dramatic change.  Boeing had two completed 747-8s airframes of a bankrupt customer which it proposed to convert for a reduction in price and specification.  The major item to go was the refuelling system as it cannot be retrofitted into a completed airframe.  Trump was happy to accept that because he is only interested in superficial image and not on the intrinsic worth.  The other compromise was to use the existing power supply and aircon system which are underpowered for the task. 

Boeing miscalculated the cost of, amongst other things, replacing the 380km of in situ wires with special shielded cables and the electromagnetic radiation hardening of all existing aircraft controls and electronic boxes.  The upshot is that the planes will be barely completed before the end of Trump’s second term.  Meanwhile the Emir’s palace in-the-sky could cost up to $1bn to convert to a sub-military grade US Presidential jet and will only be available just before the end of his term anyway.  It will initially be accepted by the Dept of Defense and then donated to Trump’s presidential library.  At $270,000 per flight hour, it’s anyone’s guess who is going to fly on it, to what end and who’s going to pay for it.  Perhaps it should be called Con Air.

A SMAC in the Face #91:  Donocchio, the GLOAT

Being a showman, Trump has many signature old man dance moves, playing air accordion when explaining something and strange facial expressions.  The most nauseating is his self-satisfied gloat, which, being Trump, he deploys many times.  But, no, this piece is not about him being smug.  It’s about him being a GLOAT.  Sports fans would immediately recognise what a GOAT is – Greatest Of All Time which is something Trump would sell his soul to be and mostly does.  Being Trump we have to add in a ‘L’ for the ell of it to describe his defining character flaw, namely lying, which includes exaggeration.  Hence he is a GLOAT – The Greatest Liar Of All Time.  

On the campaign trail he trundled out more lies than the Big Macs he scoffed. Overnight fact checking became a growth industry until many gave up, overwhelmed by the avalanche of porkies.  The classic was the emotive, “They (the illegal immigrants) are eating the cats.”  Then there was the price of eggs.  Yes, there was a general uptick in inflation but the much larger increase in egg prices was not due to Biden’s economic policies but was because of culling due to bird flu.  He also stated that he would be bringing the egg prices down by 98% on day one.  Really!  That would put the price of a single egg at around 2¢.  This was not the only day one boast.  There were many others including stopping the Ukraine war.

On assuming office, he went feral and declared economic war on the world, even his allies.  His primary attack was by means of tariffs.  This, he said, would be paid by the exporting country.  Either he is economically stupid or he was lying – take your pick.  He then exaggerated the trade deficits of some countries by a factor of up to two to justify his actions and then changed the number in different interviews.  In fact, he was just pulling numbers out of his thin hair to amplify his talking point.  In maths all numbers actually have real and imaginary components with the latter denoted by ‘i’, eg 3 +i4.  In Trump’s imaginary world, all his numbers, and everything else have to do with ’I’ and are real.

Trump lies about everything, including trivial things and even when he doesn’t have to.  Perhaps this was hardwired in him at birth or perhaps he is delusional or perhaps, because he always wants to be the centre of attention, he will make stuff up if not.  Perhaps he suffers from his brand of Trump Derangement Syndrome, namely ADD – (other people’s) Attention Deficit Disorder.

His father got a tame doctor to diagnose Trump’s bone spurs to avoid the draft.  Fast forward about 50 years:  To much derision during his first presidency, he got a doctor to report that he was an incredible physical specimen which the doctor later recanted. To avoid similar derision in his second term he got a military doctor to report in detail on a wide range of tests to prove that he was healthy except for one small nagging detail.  The doctor noted that he was 6’ 3” tall.  He might have been that when young but all recent photos show him to be just over 6’ which would be a standard consequence of aging.  He just couldn’t resist the lie could he.

Finally, according to Trump, he always wins at his golf tournaments.  This will either make him the biggest cheat or the greatest liar since Pinocchio.  He’s the Liar King and deserves to be called Donocchio, the GLOAT.

A SMAC in the Face #90: The Rhymes of the Ancient Martinet

For those who did not have the benefit of a classical education, Samuel Coleridge wrote the lyric, The Rimes of the Ancient Mariner, in 1797-8.  It is about a sailing ship on a long sea voyage which finds itself in a terrible storm but gets to better weather by following an albatross.  For whatever reason, the mariner shoots the albatross which leads to bad luck for the ship.  The ship’s company are pissed off with him and hang the albatross around his neck.  He is the only eventual survivor of the series of calamities that befall the ship and its crew.  For SMAC’s take on the relevance of this to our world today, read on

In his second term, the oldest elected president has already issued a bewildering array of executive orders that are illegal, borderline illegal or controversial and has otherwise conducted himself in an unprecedented, unconstitutional and unbecoming manner.  He has taken aim at all the arms of the federal government system, and is tearing them up one by one, not because they are immoral, but because they stand in the way of his and his rich buddies’ feral brand of capitalism. 

Continue reading

A SMAC in the Face #89: The Steal of the President of the US

Trump’s second term will go down in history as one of the most chaotic governments the world has ever seen short of a bloody revolution.  He has declared (economic) war on every country in the world and aims to destroy or bend to his will all federal institutions, universities, law firms and journalists, in fact, anyone or any organisation who has the temerity to call him out.  But while this is going on he is busy with the steal.

Trump is not particularly talented, but he has no shame and his biggest strength has always been his ability to monetise his name.  Winning the presidency for the first time was a match made in heaven.  It fed his ego while it fed his wallet in a variety of indirect ways such as people or delegations who wished to meet with him stayed at his hotel.  Directly, he started pushing all manner of merch such as a Bible, hypocritically endorsed by himself. If Trump could think that war heroes like John McCain were losers for being captured, he must privately think that Jesus was the biggest loser in history for allowing himself to be crucified.

But his first term was just his Apprenticeship until he was fired by the Electorate.  Luckily for him, the second time around he was not facing a sentient Zimmer frame, but a wonky and not particularly sentient Zimmer frame.  This time he found himself much better prepared.  Project 2025 had compiled a 920-page document on how he could wield virtually dictatorial power via executive orders.  Apart from continuing his trivial pursuit of merch, the world presented some unique opportunities, namely the wars in Gaza and Ukraine.  While cognizant of the potential of a much-wanted Nobel Peace Prize, he sided with Putin as he eyed real estate development opportunities for himself while pressurising Zelensky to allow the USA to exploit their rare earth minerals.  A 3-in-1 win if he could pull it off. 

Next up, the Israeli bombing of Gaza into an uninhabitable pile of rubble tweeked his inner real estate reptilian brain.  He saw that the Israelis preferred the Gazans to be gone and, since it was by then an unliveable pile of rubble, he proposed that Gaza be redeveloped into a Middle Eastern Rivera obviously with him and his buddies having first dabs.  Both projects have yielded nothing yet except a lightly pencilled in deal with Ukraine.

Schmoozing with Saudi Arabia, Qatar and Abu Dhabi recently, he accepted a $500 m jet for his foundation when he leaves office and all manner of real estate development deals for Trump Inc.

But he hadn’t forgotten his merch.  In a 2019 tweet, Trump thought that Bitcoin and the like were Kryptonite and could “facilitate unlawful behaviour, including drug trade and other illegal activity.”  But his stance changed dramatically during his re-election campaign and he started championing it.  He was preparing the ground for his ultimate merch, the $TRUMP meme coin.  Although crypto currencies are merely computer algorithms, meme coins are another story and have no substance or utility whatsoever which probably resonated with Him. He might have been a late convert but he literally hit gold when he launched $TRUMP on 17 January, 3 days before his inauguration.  He issued 200 million coins via the Solana blockchain and held back 800 million.  The price soon rose to a peak of $77 but is now languishing at around $13 so many people must have burnt their fingers.  This happens quite a lot with Trump investors as six bankruptcies will testify to.  Nevertheless, speculators continue to trade at the rate of 20-50 million trades per day and Trump gets a cut of the transaction fees as well.  On 14 February, Fortune magazine noted that while ‘investors’ lost about $2 bn, Trump made an estimated $350 m from the initial sales and, together with his partners, made a further $100 m in fees.

Nice work if you can get it.