This
ludicrous
Penny
Purge of
2025
- hailed as some
bold, courageous act - comes to you courtesy
of a man currently
juggling more indictments than a Vegas
magician dodging child
support. Let’s be honest: Donald Trump isn’t
targeting the penny
because it costs more to mint than it’s
worth (though that’s the
official bedtime story, waved around like a
clearance rack flag pin.)
No, he’s going after the penny because it’s
a shiny little decoy.
A copper-colored sleight of hand meant to
distract from the flaming
garbage barge that is his legal, moral, and
political legacy.
This
isn’t
fiscal responsibility. This is faux-populism
with a gold-plated comb-over.
Trump,
ever
the ringmaster of the low-rent mall parking
lot Distraction
Circus, knows a good culture war grenade
when he sees one. And
scrapping the penny lets him dish out two of
his base’s favorite
meals: (1) red meat for the crowd still
dreaming of 1955 -
colored-only everything, and (2) a middle
finger to “the libs” by
inserting his bloated self into the sacred
pantheon of American
symbolism. Forget Lincoln. Forget Harriet
Tubman. In Trump’s
America, the new currency isn’t equality -
it’s ego
embossed
on metal.
Killing
the
penny is just the warm-up act. The real show
is rewriting
history,
one coin at a time.
The Frederick
Douglass
quarter?
Canceled.
Ruby Bridges?
Scrubbed.
The
women’s suffrage
marchers? Ghosted
like
one of Trump’s many unpaid contractors. Why?
Because these were
supposed to be part of the 2026 “America
250” coin series -
honoring the actual struggles that dragged
this country, kicking and
screaming, closer to its stated ideals. But
apparently, a little
Black girl walking into school under federal
guard hits too close to
home for folks nostalgic for segregated
lunch counters.
So
instead of honoring hard-won progress, the
nation’s birthday coin
set now plays like a Founding Father cosplay
convention: muskets,
Mayflower, parchment, powdered wigs - all
neatly packaged in
five-cent denominations. It’s America’s
favorite bedtime story:
we were born perfect, stayed perfect, and
any suggestion otherwise is
probably a DEI conspiracy run by a
gender-fluid librarian with a
master’s degree in empathy.
But
wait
- there’s
more!
Because if you thought this was just about
airbrushing the past,
let’s talk about minting
the
myth of the present.
Buckle up for the pièce de résistance: the
Trump coin.
Yes, a dollar
coin reportedly featuring The Man Himself,
post-assassination
attempt, fist raised like a pro wrestler,
with the words “FIGHT,
FIGHT, FIGHT” stamped on the back like a
steroidal pep rally.
That’s
not
currency. That’s campaign
merch
with a US Treasury seal.
Who
let this monster out of his playpen and
handed him the national mint?
This
is
Banana
Republic energy
- if the bananas were peeled, spray-tanned,
and obsessed with
inauguration crowd size. And here’s the
kicker: this is happening
in a country that used
to
pride itself on not putting living
presidents on money. You know,
because kings do that. Strongmen do that.
Dictators do that. America?
We were supposed to be different. That’s
literally why we left
Europe - well, that and the Puritans needed
new soil to be
sanctimonious jerks on.
But
now?
We’re floating a Trump coin while tossing
civil rights legends into the recycling
bin.
That’s not just tacky. That’s state-sponsored
trolling.
That’s
turning every cash register, every vending
machine, every lemonade
stand into a MAGA altar.
And
don’t
be fooled - this isn’t some nerdy design
dispute among the
folks at the U.S. Mint. This is petulant
political theater.
Trump
knows he’ll never be universally admired, so
he’ll settle for
being unavoidable.
He wants to burrow
into
the bloodstream of the nation like mildew,
turning every dollar into a devotional item.
He doesn’t want to be
on money because he earned it. He wants to
be on it because
he
can.
Because he’s
the spoiled, grown-ass man-child of American
politics. Because
nothing outrages his enemies quite like
being forced to tip a barista
with a coin bearing his smirking, bloated
face.
And
let’s
pause for a moment of absurdity
appreciation: this is the
same guy who couldn’t run a casino into
profit during the golden
age of gambling. The same man who declared
bankruptcy more often than
most Americans floss. And
now
he wants to define the American economy?
Ain’t that a bitch.
So
sure,
go ahead. Kill the penny if you must. But
don’t act like this
is about economics. This is about ego-nomics.
This is about turning the 250th anniversary
of the country into a
MAGA
scrapbook
- where progress gets deleted, struggle gets
sanitized, and the
leader’s image gets stamped on every nickel
like a bobblehead
in
jackboots.
In
the end, it’s not just the penny that’s
being devalued.
It’s
the
story
- our story - that’s being tossed in the
trash like an expired
Trump steak. The whole narrative of who
built this country, who bled
for it, who got locked out, shut up, or
stepped over so a few men in
powdered wigs could look noble in oil
paintings. And who’s
hijacking that story now? Not a scholar. Not
a statesman. But a
tangerine-tinted con-man with a rap sheet
and a fanbase that thinks
Ruby Bridges was a hoax and the Emancipation
Proclamation was a
suggestion.
This
isn’t
just a man with a Sharpie and a grudge. This
is a hustler
rooted in the Klan, adored by the Klan, and
propped up by every
sweaty-palmed corner of white grievance in
America. This is the same
guy who once tried to move a hurricane with
a Sharpie and now wants
to move you
with a coin - his
coin
- to believe he belongs in the same breath
as Lincoln, Douglass, or
Roosevelt.
And
for what? So we can tip our Uber driver with
a monument to treason
wrapped in copper?
Let’s
call
it what it is. Trump is a pimp
in every sense of the word. Pimping
nostalgia, pimping whiteness,
pimping grievance, and now - pimping your
pocket change.
Call
it
national pride, call it economic strategy,
call it commemorative
trash . But let’s not lie to ourselves: this
isn’t about honoring history.
It’s about branding
tyranny
in copper and nickel.
It’s soft, fragile, insecure male ego turned
legal tender.
And
if
we’re not careful, we’ll be spending
our
way into autocracy,
one Trump coin at a time.
