Join the cult, get the cash: Why you should become a Trumpist

I know what you’re thinking. You’re a principled person. You believe in science, equality, the peaceful transfer of power, and occasionally paying your taxes. You probably recycle. Maybe you’ve even read a book without pictures this year. But none of that matters anymore. We’re in late-stage America now—the stakes are high, the system is rigged, and the Wi-Fi barely works. If you want to survive, let alone thrive, there’s only one path left: become a Trumpist.

Yes, you heard me right. Become a Trumpist. Doesn’t matter if you’re a Green Party idealist, a bleeding-heart liberal, a disillusioned centrist, or even a libertarian who still thinks Bitcoin will liberate us all from the Fed. None of that will help you when the gold-plated Trump Tower gates close behind the last train out of middle-class despair. The billionaire lifeboat is leaving, and there’s only one captain with enough ketchup-stained gravitas to steer it—Donald J. Trump.

Let’s be clear. This isn’t about believing. This is about belonging.

Look around. We’ve passed the point where competence matters. Brains are for nerds. Principles are for suckers. Billionaires are the only ones writing the rules now, and guess who hands out the starter kits? That’s right: Trump. He’s like the Monopoly Man crossed with a demolition derby car—chaotic, invincible, and somehow always holding the deed to your future.

So here’s the plan. You want a career? Forget internships. Get indicted, preferably for something reeking of misogyny. Trump loves a fellow martyr. You want media exposure? Start a podcast where you say the 2020 election was rigged, vaccines are made of tofu, and Hillary Clinton lives in a volcano. You’ll be a guest on Truth Social’s flagship show, “Deep State or Deep Dish?” in no time.

Need money? Don’t waste time with honest work. The Trumpist economic model is simple: court cases = crowdfunding. You, too, can raise millions if you just get banned from a few social media platforms and start calling judges “radical Marxists in robes.” Billionaire donors are watching. And they reward spunk.

You may ask, “But isn’t this morally bankrupt?” Of course it is! That’s the point. Look at who’s thriving: It’s not the careful, the cautious, or the coherent. It’s the loudest, the least fact-encumbered, the ones who know that bankruptcies are just character development arcs. And who taught us that better than the man who’s gone bankrupt more times than most people have renewed their driver’s license?

Únete al culto, consigue el dinero: Por qué deberías convertirte en un Trumpista

But here’s the real secret: To make it big in Trumpworld, you don’t need to succeed. You just need to associate. All roads to riches now pass through Mar-a-Lago, where loyalty is rewarded, enemies are indicted, and irony goes to die.

Think about it. Trump is like King Midas in reverse—everything he touches becomes a grift. But grifts pay. Just ask the pillow guy. He started with bedding and ended up on national television explaining Chinese algorithms to a confused America. That’s career advancement in the New Economy.

You, too, can become a billionaire-adjacent entity. Start small. Change your name to something patriotic, like Liberty Eagleman or Constitutional McFreedom. Declare your candidacy for local office, even if you’re not running. Go on Fox News and announce that the deep state has infiltrated the local PTA. Start selling T-shirts that say “Indicted = Invited.”

Eventually, you’ll be invited to dinner at Mar-a-Lago. And at that dinner, between the overcooked steak and the undercooked policy ideas, Trump will look at you with his signature squint and say, “You got potential, kid.” And just like that, you’re in. The future is golden. Possibly gilded. Definitely gaudy.

So, stop resisting. Sell your soul while it still has some market value. Embrace the chaos, the capital gains from inside trading, and the court appearances. Because in this country, under this system, and during this particular moment in our collective unraveling, it’s not about what you believe. It’s about who you believe in—or at least who you publicly swear allegiance to on cable news.

And who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be handing out pardons on Pay-Per-View.

Because in Trumpistan, everybody’s a winner—as long as they’ve already lost everything that used to matter.