In a fantastical twist of modern absurdity, President Trump found himself at the center of a wild social media spectacle that resembled more of a low-budget internet conspiracy thriller than a genuine news story. Over the Labor Day weekend, Twitter (or X, as the kids call it these days) was ablaze with the outrageous rumor that Trump had shuffled off this mortal coil, spurred on by his brief hiatus from the public eye. As if a lack of public bluster from a former president was some sort of breaking news. Really, the outrage should’ve been directed at whoever dared Trump to take five from the limelight; they must be an unsung hero.
When Trump eventually resurfaced for a press conference, he didn’t just bring news of relocating Space Command, specifically from Colorado Springs, Colorado, to Huntsville, Alabama, at Redstone Arsenal, evidently bringing approximately 1,400 jobs to the heartland over the next five years. No, he also inadvertently threw a wrench into the fevered imaginings of his would-be Twitter obituary writers. Apparently, because Trump dared to take a few days off and hit the golf course, the internet’s armchair detectives shifted into overdrive, armed with pixelated images and overactive imaginations to “prove” their claims. All manner of high-tech wizardry, or rather, bumbling attempts at Photoshop, were used to suggest that Trump’s face was undergoing some bizarre transformation as he entered the afterlife. Personally, yours truly thinks these folks missed their calling as screenwriters for melodramatic soap operas.
The highlights of this spectacle involve an attempt at photo “enhancement” that arguably set the field of artificial intelligence back a few steps. Using AI, some dedicated sleuths managed to transform a grainy snapshot of Trump into something more suitable for Neil Gaiman’s next graphic novel, complete with extra forehead appendages and wonky eyes. Clearly, they never considered the possibility that their phone cameras might just be terrible. In their enthusiasm, they inadvertently turned a digital mishap into “evidence” of Trump’s purported decline, probably hoping it’d be as cutting-edge as CSI, but landing closer to a kids’ DIY Halloween project.
The twists and turns didn’t stop there. The rumor mill—fully caffeinated on weekend conspiracy concoctions—spun tales of secret chopper fleets and barricaded roads leading to Walter Reed. Apparently, the same folks that believe Trump vanished also believe in his resurrection tour. Meanwhile, over in Chicago, the real news—the kind involving crime and governance—barely blipped on their radar. The windy city celebrated the holiday weekend in its usual grim, gunfire-accompanied fashion. Yet, somehow, in the bizarro world of narrative-spinning, this, too, tangentially edged onto Trump’s list of alleged sins.
Of course, anyone with an ounce of common sense—or even half an ounce—could grasp the absurdity. But then again, a non-stop news cycle can morph anyone’s garden-variety internet hilarity into a full-blown Greek tragedy. Liberal disappointment hit its zenith as the man they proclaimed prematurely buried stood, alive and well, discussing Space Force matters instead of his afterlife plans. Not one to waste a good opportunity to showcase chaos, here we have a digital-age phenomenon at its finest, where a few days off the public grid meant not a peaceful golf getaway, but an elaborate mystery. And the ultimate lesson? When the world fails to spin out of its orbit, leave it to social media to fill in the gaps with tales that would make even the Brothers Grimm raise an eyebrow.
