A friend recently forwarded me an image that nearly made me fall out of my chair. Although I didn’t wind up actually falling from the chair, I was, apparently, in need of a good, old-fashioned belly laugh, nonetheless.
The image in question depicted California Gov. Gavin Newsom seated at a desk, his hands clasped in prayer and with Kid Rock, Tucker Carlson and an angel Hulk Hogan praying over him. The reason why it was so funny, aside from the inherent absurdity, was due to its mocking of another famous image circulated on the interwebs – one that depicts President Donald Trump sitting at the Resolute Desk with Jesus behind him, guiding his hand on a piece of paper.
It is far from the only strange – and debatably blasphemous – image of Trump and Jesus out there.
For anyone following Newsom’s moves as of late, the image is one of many attempts at trolling coming from the governor’s “Governor Newsom Press Office” Twitter/X account.
For brevity’s sake, I’ll leave the three or four of you who read my scrawlings here to look into the postings themselves, but I will describe them thusly: Newsom has managed to take Trump’s blustery online style and appropriate it in order troll the President. One thing he hasn’t figured out how to utilize yet is Trump’s ubiquitous misspellings and various other grammatical errors, but give him time.
In another recent post, Newsom compared Trump adviser Stephen Miller to Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter, and mocked a post in which Miller criticized the Smithsonian. Now, personally, I think Miller more closely resembles Nosferatu, but I digress.
So why is a man who some polls and prognosticators project as the front-runner for the Democratic party in 2028 resorting to such antics, which in any other era, would be derided as childishness, and not befitting a politician of his stature? Just look no further than the man at whom all of Newsom’s satire is directed. As commander-in-chief, Donald Trump has managed to cultivate a merchandizing bonanza from his presidency.
According to a report from the Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington, in the year 2023, alone, Trump merchandise generated in excess of $3 million in sales. Consider all of the products bearing the Trump name and/or signature – sneakers, watches, perfumes and cologne and even the “God Bless the USA Bible,” which, by the way, generated more than $1.3 million.
Trump’s brand is grandiose, and oftentimes sophomoric in how he addresses political adversaries, including Newsom, whom he labelled as “Newscum” in social media broadsides.
Folks, we’re in a day and age, politically, where that tired old institution of Saturday Night Live doesn’t even really have to try to come up with its material. In other words, the jokes just write themselves.
Both politicians, though simping for separate street gangs, are representative of an era in which politics is not confined to debates, press conferences and evening news broadcasts. Increasingly, political discourse has relied more on statements to reach a broad audience in which humor, satire and outright trolling are the tools of persuasion and influence. What might have come across as undignified in a previous life can be surprisingly effective at shaping narratives and getting through to an attention span-starved electorate.
The way that Trump and Newsom, in his reactionary way, troll online, is also representative of an evolving current in American life. Humor has long been a pastime.
Some politicians have been better sports about it than others. A great example from history is the sharp wit of Honest Abe Lincoln, who self-deprecatingly once said “If I am two-faced, would I wear the face that I have now?” in reply to a critic who called him “two-faced.”
Ronald Reagan also was known to use humor to disarm his critics, and even to turn potentially damaging moments, such as questions about his age, into moments to grab some laughter.
In 2025, the medium has changed. Whereas humor was once filtered through long speeches and interviews, it now travels instantly, in bite-sized dispatches, across platforms like X, TikTok and Instagram, where brevity, punch and shareability are the order of the day.
On such platforms, satire and trolling often blend into a mishmash, often including irony, exaggeration or outright mockery (such as in many of Trump and Newsom’s barbs) to provoke opponents and to delight/amuse observers.
The ability of a clever meme or phrase upon these mediums to go viral can, nowadays, do more to set forth some sort of agenda than any speech or phone book-sized (remember those?) bill.
For far too long, critics of both major parties pooh-poohed an inability of politicians to reach younger or disengaged voters, but satire and trolling helps to make them appear relatable and quick-witted and makes those who might be accused of being stiff or scripted appear moreso.
In tumultuous times, politically, We the People need more than facts and figures, but also ways to process things that appear chaotic, without being consumed by the chaos. Even in moments of deep division, laughter can build connection, and sometimes, it can open the door to a more honest conversation about power, policy and the state of our union.
For critics who argue that trolling and satire can cheapen political discourse or further inflame polarization, well, there is truth to that: when humor slides into cruelty or misinformation, it can corrode trust and deepen cynicism. Yet when wielded responsibly, humor can actually humanize politics.
A politician who jokes about themselves demonstrates humility, while one who pokes fun at opponents without malice can expose contradictions in a way that encourages reflection rather than resentment.
The key is intent—whether satire seeks to enlighten or merely to insult. With great power, as Spider Man’s Uncle Ben reminds us, comes great responsibility.
