Foiled Trump goes full Confederate, names Mar-a-Lago the MAGA Whiter than White House

'No cause is truly lost when the Confederate flag still waves, when statues of freedom-fighters stand on every village green, and good white Christian nationalists reign supreme.'


Once the Trump “Winter White House,” Mar-a-Lago is now officially the real MAGA Whiter than White House. This not-so-subtle effort aims to offset the decline of Trumpism, wounded by dramatic primary losses, while rekindling a third run for that far more problematic White House up north. The second biggest mansion in Florida, and 22nd largest nationally, Mar-a-Lago as MAGA capitol seeks to rejuvenate Trump’s own lost cause – and a role he defiantly refuses to accept: that of a disgraced “ex” president. In Trumpworld, he remains the only legitimate president, fraudulently dumped by an election curiously bereft of provable fraud.

For a real estate operator, tangible property is all important, offering more than symbolism. The  Mar-a-Lago capitol will concentrate Trump leverage and ambitions, with fundraising, muck-raising, name-calling, and ring-kissing. Naturally, being fond of inequality, life-styles of the rich and famous, plus hot-tempered insurrections, Trump has found his true home in the aristocratic, deep South, within the most important swing state. Trump advisors trust this new capitol will broadcast clout to the “other,” discredited Capitol controlled by unprincipled, conniving Biden Democrats.

“Look,” began the announcement by the ex-president this weekend, “the rightly-aggrieved, election-fleeced MAGA crowd needs a clear capitol to plan the next, triumphant battle against the unholy sedition of this urban, northern, anti-religious, sissified, minority-controlled government. Legitimate presidents, and trust me that is what I am, must do shocking things to redirect history away from carnage and onto the right track. With the power vested in every living president, I hereby name Mar-a-Lago as the Whiter than White House, in the greatest southern state. Sorry, Texas, too many weirdos, too many shootings, too many political blunders. And forget dumb, disloyal Georgia.”

Insurrection flop? Try, try again

Trump continued, “We tried in January to turn back the horrible, lawless resistance against our candidacy, but a few things went wrong. Though Biden’s Capitol is just a sham to confirm a phony result, we need a more organized, well-armed militia next time. We can’t allow the entrenched, woke, leftwing elite to sustain its stranglehold over the people. We need more of my singularly-brilliant appointments, and that means a good, old-fashioned, solidly-built Confederate capitol. We will never regain the golden, good old days without honoring our greatest southerners, brave enough to challenge an over-reaching government. They couldn’t stand Washington elites either, or arrogant abolitionists telling sovereign states how to run their efficient, low-cost, highly-profitable plantation economy. My kind of business, cheap labor, ever available, and with women to boot. The north tried to break what wasn’t broken, and millions of Americans needlessly died in the mayhem. And there weren’t even pushy unions then to blame.

“Jan. 6 make clear to my true believers that American redemption still requires a successful insurrection. What’s a better homegrown model of fighting tyranny than the brave Confederacy? Ask not what Trumpism can do for you, but what cash you can send in for my re-election. That’s how we redo the election and the birth of a new nation still mired in carnage. Let’s all get behind my new favorite song, Dixie, with “the good old days that are not forgotten” and “I’ll take my stand to live and die in Dixie.”

“History will record this moment at Mar-a-Lago as the beginning of the end of the tragic Lost Cause. A new capitol amplifies my bully pulpit – and I need to bully disloyal Republicans to assure I win, fair and square, the next time out. I willingly commit to my last hurrah to fulfill what Lady Liberty promised, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” Aren’t we all sick and tired of getting screwed? I certainly can’t stand being poor, and what red-blooded American won’t demand free air? Nothin’ else is free as Biden inflation rages. Compare that blessing to the empty, lily-livered meager handouts from Joe Biden. I still say there’s no way I legitimately fall to such a loser.”

And with a bold finale, Trump concluded, “Remember, no cause is truly lost when the Confederate flag still waves, when statures of freedom-fighters stand on every village green, and good white Christian nationalists reign supreme. What’s wrong with God, guns, gays back in the closet and minorities who know their place? A legitimate capitol returns me to being Commander-in-chief, if only of this sacred space. Yes, a Mar-a-Lago bass in every pot, and the only thing to fear isn’t fear itself but running out of money before you die. Significantly born in Queens, I was destined to be a populist king. And you can’t be a king without a kingdom. Not only do we need a new capitol but a new brash lever by which to fashion a new civil war. No powers-that-be will give up wallet-stealing greed without a fight, and that’s what Trumpism is all about, for the average joe, plus keeping foreigners from displacing true Americans.

“That’s why I never presumed to be president of all the people, especially those criminal illegals who sneak in because my brilliant southern wall, a fortress to the sanctity of America, has been sabotaged. I predict my completed wall will stand as a monument to human achievement, topping that obsolete, crumbling one in China, equaling in glory my inevitable second presidency. Only with walls and tariffs and the right treaties with the most dominant, unshakeable world leaders can any chosen people keep itself pure and hallowed. Our entire crusade begins again, as kicked off with that famous escalator descent, with Mar-a-Lago as the capitol of the new and better American civilization. “I’ll take my stand to live and die in Dixie.” “Give me liberty or give me death.” “Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition.” And by the way, I never lie, or have lied, and rumors be damned, I never chopped down any frickin’ cherry tree. Take that to the bank.


Addendum, at no additional cost, from variations of Dixie:

Original lyrics:

O, I wish I was in the land of cotton
Old times there are not forgotten
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

I wish I was in Dixie,
Hooray, Hooray!
In Dixie land, I’ll take my stand to live and die in Dixie!
Away, away, away down South in Dixie!

The Confederate rendition:

Southrons! hear your country call you!
Up! lest worse than death befall you!
Hear the Northern thunders mutter!
Northern flags in South wind flutter;
Send them back your fierce defiance!
Stamp upon the cursed alliance!

Finally, like my essay above, Tom Lehrer’s more germane, satiric rendition:I wanna go back to Dixie,
I wanna be a dixie pixie
And eat cornpone ’til it’s comin’ outta my ears.

I wanna talk with Southern gentlemen,And put my white sheet on again,
I ain’t seen one good lynchin’ in years.

The land of the boll weevil,
Where the laws are medieval.
Is callin’ me to come and nevermore roam.

I wanna go back to the Southland
That you-all and “shet-ma-mouth” land,
Be it ever so decadent,
There’s no place like home.


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For over a decade, Robert S. Becker's independent, rebel-rousing essays on politics and culture analyze overall trends, history, implications, messaging and frameworks. He has been published widely, aside from Nation of Change and RSN, with extensive credits from OpEdNews (as senior editor), Alternet, Salon, Truthdig, Smirking Chimp, Dandelion Salad, Beyond Chron, and the SF Chronicle. Educated at Rutgers College, N.J. (B.A. English) and U.C. Berkeley (Ph.D. English), Becker left university teaching (Northwestern, then U. Chicago) for business, founding SOTA Industries, a top American high end audio company he ran from '80 to '92. From '92-02, he was an anti-gravel mining activist while doing marketing, business and writing consulting. Since then, he seeks out insight, even wit in the shadows, without ideology or righteousness across the current mayhem of American politics.