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I’d Rather Have Global Thermonuclear War Than World Peace Orchestrated by Trump
As the most intersectionally progressive being on this overheating, colonialist rock we call Earth—a transwoman valiantly trapped in the body of a transman, a paraplegic polar bear who sustains grrrlself solely on ethically fallen fruit—I must speak truth to power. The mere thought of world peace, that saccharine fantasy peddled by the orange menace, Donald J. Trump, makes my ethically sourced, non-GMO bile rise faster than the seas drowning my ancestral Arctic ice. I’d rather see the world bathed in the cleansing glow of thermonuclear war than endure a single moment of Trump’s so-called “peace.”
Let’s be clear: peace under Trump isn’t peace. It’s a dystopian fever dream where the world’s problems are solved by gold-plated handshakes, garish MAGA hats, and a global chain of Trump-branded golf courses. Picture it: a planet unified under a comb-over dictatorship, where every leader is coerced into signing a “great deal” while choking down overcooked steak slathered in ketchup. This isn’t harmony; it’s a geopolitical episode of The Apprentice, with humanity as the fired contestant.
As a paraplegic polar bear, I know extinction-level threats. My kin have been melting into oblivion while the world debates whether climate change is a “Chinese hoax.” Trump’s peace would likely involve drilling the last pristine ecosystems for oil to fuel his private jets, all while claiming he’s “saving the polar bears” by tweeting a picture of himself hugging a taxidermied one. My fallen-fruit diet, a sacred act of decolonial resistance against Big Agriculture, would be mocked as “low-energy” by a man who thinks a cheeseburger is a personality trait.
And let’s talk intersectionality. Trump’s peace would erase the vibrant tapestry of my identities. A transwoman trapped in a transman’s body? He’d probably demand I pick a side or deport me to a country he can’t pronounce. My grrrlhood, a radical rejection of binary nonsense, would be dismissed as “woke garbage.” And don’t get me started on my polar bear spirit—Trump would probably try to sell my fur as a limited-edition NFT. His peace would flatten the world into a monoculture of tacky resorts and bad haircuts, leaving no room for those of us who roar against the cisheteropatriarchal machine.
Now, consider the alternative: global thermonuclear war. Yes, it’s messy. Yes, it’s hot (and not in the fun, queer-coded way). But hear me out. A fiery reset would dismantle the capitalist, imperialist structures that prop up Trump’s ego and his empire. The fallout would be a great equalizer—no more billionaires hoarding resources while my fallen mangoes rot under systemic inequity. In the smoldering ashes, we could rebuild a world where paraplegic polar bears like me are centered, where fruit falls freely, and where nobody has to endure another Trump rally.
Am I saying we should nuke ourselves into oblivion? Not exactly. But if the choice is between a world where Trump takes credit for peace and one where we start fresh in a post-apocalyptic utopia, I’m grabbing my ethically sourced coconut and heading for the bunker. Trump’s peace is just oppression with better branding. I’d rather bet on the cockroaches inheriting the Earth—they’re less likely to tweet about it.
Mx. Sandra Chou, PhD. PhD. (she/they/grrrl) is a fallen-fruit activist, a transwoman-transman polar bear, and the world’s foremost expert on intersectional apocalyptics. Grrrl’s pronouns are non-negotiable, and grrrl’s rage is non-binary.
The post I’d Rather Have Global Thermonuclear War Than World Peace Orchestrated by Trump appeared first on Genesius Times.
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