In a move that has left constitutional scholars reaching for the smelling salts and passport control officers reaching for the sick bags, the United States of America has announced that every passport issued for the nation's 250th birthday will bear the radiant visage of one Donald J. Trump. Yes, that Trump: the orange-toned, tweet-hurling, democracy-bending former president who once suggested injecting disinfectant might cure a pandemic. Because nothing says 'Happy Birthday, America' quite like a narcissist's mug shot on your travel documents.
Let's parse this, shall we? The 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence: a milestone commemorating the audacious idea that all men are created equal. But apparently, that equality does not extend to passport design, which is now a permanent homage to the man who spent four years trying to prove that the presidency was, in fact, a reality TV show with nuclear codes. The logic here is so flawless it hurts. Why celebrate the birth of a nation when you can celebrate the birth of a brand? The Fourth of July fireworks will now be replaced by a giant, inflatable Trump head floating over the Potomac, belching 'Yuge' in red, white, and blue smoke.
Critics are already calling this a 'vanity project' of the highest order. But they're missing the point. This isn't vanity: it's a masterstroke of branding. Every time a US citizen waves their passport at a foreign border, they're not just proving their nationality: they're advertising the ultimate product, Trump himself. 'Look at me,' the passport screams. 'I belong to the man who built a wall, grabbed a p***y, and still hasn't released his tax returns.' It's the most effective marketing campaign since the 'I Voted' sticker was replaced with 'I Voted for Trump (or else)'.
For the global community, this is a diplomatic grenade wrapped in a laminated cover. Imagine the scene at Heathrow: 'Reason for visit?' 'Business.' 'And who is that on your passport?' 'A vengeful demigod who demands loyalty oaths and trade wars.' The immigration officer will either stamp your visa or spontaneously combust from sheer existential confusion. Either way, it's a win for spectacle.
But wait, there's more. The passports are not just printed: they're 'stamped' with Trump's face, suggesting an element of physical force, as if his visage has been hammered into the pages by a team of mallet-wielding interns. Beneath the photo, in fine print, it reads: 'This passport is property of the United States, leased to its bearer, subject to tariffs and occasional tantrums.'
Of course, the timing is impeccable. The announcement comes just as Trump’s legal woes pile higher than the national debt. It's a distraction, plain and simple. While the world fixates on the new passport design, the media will forget about the nine Supreme Court cases and the ten grand juries and the one very tired E. Jean Carroll. The Trump face is a optical illusion: look at it long enough and the rest of reality fades to grey.
But let's be honest: this is exactly what the passport office needs. After years of dull, forgettable designs featuring eagles and Statues of Liberty, finally a passport that sparks conversation. 'Is that the man who bankrupted casinos or the one who started a trade war with Canada?' 'Both.' It's a two-for-one deal in the identity theft supermarket.
To the State Department, I say this: you have outdone yourselves. You have transformed the humble passport from a travel document into a political Rorschach test. Either you love Trump and your passport is a badge of honour, or you hate him and it's an embarrassing photo you have to flash at every customs desk. There is no middle ground. There is only the face.
So as the 250th birthday approaches, pack your bags, dust off your passport, and prepare to explain to the world why your nationality comes with a side of bluster and a comb-over. Happy birthday, America. You've never looked orange.
