⚖️ Legal Disclaimer: This is a satirical commentary written in the furious, funny, and foul-mouthed spirit of George Fucking Carlin. It’s social criticism, not sacrilege; comedy, not conspiracy. If you’re offended by words more than by genocide, censorship, or historical whitewashing — congratulations, you’ve proven the goddamn point. Public figures, public proclamations, public consequences — fair game. If this stings, it’s because it’s true.

So on October 9th, Donald the First issued a proclamation: Columbus Day. But unlike past editions, this one doesn’t hide behind vague patriotism or “heritage.” No. This one’s packaged in plumes of Christian nationalism, cross planting, divine destiny, and “left-wing arsonists.”

They’ve gone full reboot — Columbus not just discovered the Americas, he dedicated land to God, carried centuries of philosophy across the Atlantic, paved the way for Western civilization, and now we must “reclaim his extraordinary legacy.” Yes — “reclaim.” Because apparently the left took Columbus away with a match and some graffiti brushes. He’s being sold not as a flawed explorer, but a sanctified martyr of empire.

Let’s call bullshit on that. Because the real “Columbian legacy” isn’t glory and faith. It’s genocide, displacement, slavery, pandemics, cultural erasure. Those weren’t side effects. They were part of the design. Planting a cross wasn’t a noble act of faith — it was a declaration of conquest. The Columbian Exchange didn’t spread “wisdom, philosophy, reason” from Europe. It shipped smallpox, death, and the ideology that indigenous lives don’t count unless they submit.

So what is this proclamation, if not a rewriting of history? What they’re doing is stitching their mythology over truth, painting over indigenous burial grounds with flag stripes and gloss. This is not commemorating history. This is replacing it. They don’t want what happened. They want what they wish had happened — the founding of a holy Western empire guided by God, delivered by white men, cleansed of any dissenting narrative.

They accuse the “left” of arson, saying they want to erase Columbus from memory.

 But this proclamation — this is arson too. It burns away complexity. It blacks out the voices of native children, of kidnapped laborers, of people forced into submission—all so you can see a hero in marble.

They want you to believe Columbus was the origin story of America, not one chapter of many in a violent saga. They want him as the seed of “faith, courage, perseverance, virtue.” But they skip over what those seeds sprouted: empire, racism, suppression, the idea that some lives are more American than others.

What scares me isn’t that Trump is doing this. What scares me is how predictable it is.

 He cites “left-wing arsonists” — as if dissent is literal fire, and history itself is a museum exhibit to guard rather than a living lesson to interrogate. He weaponizes history. He weaponizes faith. He weaponizes identity. Because when you control our sense of what’s "true," you control what’s permissible to believe next.

Let’s tie this to the pattern — to the layoffs, to the wounds he’s opening in civil rights, to the selective memory in Columbus Day. He’s not just targeting marginalized groups (Indigenous, disabled, queer, immigrant). He’s actively othering them, refusing them dignity, erasing their histories, cutting their protections. And now he’s giving us a holiday to celebrate the man who began that erasure.

He words it like an act of redemption: “We reclaim his legacy that was stolen.” No — his legacy wasn’t stolen. It was stolen from people. It was built on theft, on massacre, on the dispossession of lives and land.

When we celebrate Columbus today like he’s a divine benefactor, we validate every colonial crime that followed. We say: those atrocities were steps on our holy path. We accept that conquest was inevitability, not choice.

But here’s the thing about truth: you can’t bury it under proclamations. It creeps back in. It speaks in museum exhibits, in tribal oral histories, in the names erased from maps, in children who still live in forgotten corners. You can shout “Columbus was a hero!” as loudly as you like, but it doesn’t fix the broken bones of history.

So here’s what I want you to see:

• This proclamation is not about Columbus. It’s about who today gets to claim the land, claim the story, claim the power.
• It’s a message: if your ancestors were conquered, if your history is inconvenient, we may erase you — officially.
• It’s a reminder that in this America, some people’s names get holidays, and others get footnotes or extermination.

So when you hear the speech: “We honor Columbus, we reclaim his legacy,” I hope you hear the subtext loud and clear: They don’t just want to revisit history. They want to rewrite your place in it — from subject to background decoration.

Because that’s how empires survive — not by forced silence, but by co-opting every monument, proclamation, and pulpit into the mythology of the victors.

Final thought: 

They want you to see Columbus as a hero.

I want you to see him as the opening act of centuries of theft.

And I want you to demand a different story for tomorrow — one where “America” begins not with arrival but with resistance.