I’ve been toying with a controversial idea. Yes, controversial—but cathartic, satirical, and, if done right, profoundly symbolic. What if, one month after Donald J. Trump dies (whenever that may be—could be this year, could be in 2040), we host the biggest global party of the century?
Think Tomorrowland meets Day of the Dead, with a twist of gallows humor and political theatre. A 24-hour international rave of relief, celebration, and cultural exorcism. Not a violent or vengeful spectacle. A catharsis. A gathering of people around the world—from New York to Berlin, São Paulo to Seoul—who feel they lived through something traumatic, absurd, historic, and malignant… and need to dance it off.
We welcome everyone. This isn’t about gloating over death. Or is it? It’s about the death of an era—a media cancer, a cult of personality, a climate of cruelty. We’ll call it what it is: The Trump Era, and we bury it not with silence, but with fire, music, and mockery.
Working title ideas:
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The Trumpening
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Covfefe Carnival
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The End of the Error
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The Final Wig-Out
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MAKE ASS[CENSORED] GREAT AGAIN
Ticket pricing idea:
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Basic Tickets: €250 — General admission, a symbolic wristband, and drink tokens.
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Deluxe (Hotel + VIP Entry): €475 — Premium access, costume contests, themed rooms.
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Ultra VIP: €6,000 — Private tent, exclusive “Witch Hunt” lounge, and access to the ceremonial deflation of a 12-meter Trump effigy.
Location? Probably Europe—somewhere party-friendly and unafraid of backlash. Amsterdam, Berlin, Reykjavik, Ibiza… places that know how to host counterculture with flair. We will have multiple stages, each themed: Climate Denial Death Disco, Evangelical Twilight Zone, QAnon Acid Sauna, I.C.E. Concentration Camp, MAGA Mosh Pit and so on. Think satire, absurdity, glitter, and red lasers slicing through golden smoke clouds.
Legal? Surprisingly, yes—at least in the Netherlands. Article 270 of the Dutch Criminal Code penalizes defamation of the dead only if a close relative files a formal complaint. Even then, prosecution is rare and hard to sustain, especially if we frame the event as parody and political expression, which are protected under Article 10 of the ECHR. We won’t be selling Trump-branded hate, we’ll be selling collective relief.
It won’t be without blowback, of course. The MAGA world will flip its collective shit. There will be protests, death threats, endless talking heads frothing on Fox or whatever alt-right outlet still exists. But that’s part of the point: we do not celebrate death, we celebrate survival. We outlived the Age of Alternative Facts, and we get one damn night to howl at the ruins.
Would people come? Absolutely.
Would it sell out? In seconds.
Would it be art? Satire? Political speech? A rave?
Yes. Yes. All of it.
And when the sun rises the next day, the world might feel just a little bit lighter.
Let’s keep refining this. I’m not saying we should do it.
But I am saying… what if we did?
Inquiries – khannea.suntzu@gmail.com