On October 18, 2025, President Donald Trump posted an AI-generated video on his Truth Social account that has since ignited a fierce debate over copyright, political messaging, and the use of artificial intelligence in politics. The 19-second video, which quickly spread across social media, shows Trump piloting a fighter jet—labeled "King Trump" and, at one point, adorned with a crown—while dumping brown sludge, widely interpreted as fecal matter, onto a crowd of demonstrators identified as "No Kings" protesters. The soundtrack? None other than Kenny Loggins' iconic hit "Danger Zone," best known for its role in the 1986 blockbuster Top Gun.
The timing of the video’s release was no accident. It coincided with a massive wave of "No Kings" protests that swept the nation on the same day, drawing nearly 7 million participants to more than 2,700 cities and towns across all 50 states, according to CNN and organizers. The demonstrators gathered to voice their concerns about what they perceive as an authoritarian drift under Trump’s administration. The protests received high-profile support from celebrities such as Mark Ruffalo, Jimmy Kimmel, Robert De Niro, and Glenn Close. De Niro, in particular, drew historical parallels, saying, "The original No Kings protest was 250 years ago. Americans decided they didn’t want to live under the rule of King George III. They declared their independence and fought a bloody war for democracy. We’ve had two and a half centuries of democracy since then. Often challenging, sometimes messy, always essential. Now we have a would-be king who wants to take it away: King Donald the First. Fuck that. We’re rising up again, this time, nonviolently raising our voices to declare: No Kings." (Variety)
But the controversy didn’t end with the protests. On October 20, Kenny Loggins himself issued a strongly worded statement objecting to the unauthorized use of his recording in the AI video. "This is an unauthorized use of my performance of ‘Danger Zone.’ Nobody asked me for my permission, which I would have denied, and I request that my recording on this video is removed immediately," Loggins declared in a statement posted on his official website and shared with outlets like Variety and Nexstar. He continued, "I can’t imagine why anybody would want their music used or associated with something created with the sole purpose of dividing us. Too many people are trying to tear us apart, and we need to find new ways to come together. We’re all Americans, and we’re all patriotic. There is no ‘us and them’—that’s not who we are, nor is it what we should be. It’s all of us. We’re in this together, and it is my hope that we can embrace music as a way of celebrating and uniting each and every one of us."
Loggins’ frustration is far from unique. Over the years, numerous artists have demanded that Trump and his administration refrain from using their music at rallies, in campaign materials, or in social media content. The Foo Fighters, Beyoncé, ABBA, Sinead O’Connor, Isaac Hayes (through his estate), The White Stripes, Celine Dion, and even the creators of Pokémon have all voiced similar objections. And it’s not just musicians: comedian Theo Von recently asked the Department of Homeland Security to stop using a video of him in deportation promotion efforts, stating he was unaware of its use beforehand (Axios, Nexstar).
The Trump administration’s approach to intellectual property has been described as "ask for forgiveness, not permission," especially as it leans into a social media strategy saturated with AI-generated content. According to NBC News, Trump has posted dozens of synthetic media pieces since returning to office in January, ranging from whimsical—like a selfie with a lion—to the more pointed, such as the recent "King Trump" jet video. These tactics have drawn criticism from artists and intellectual property holders, who argue that such unauthorized use not only infringes on their rights but also risks associating their work with divisive or controversial messages.
The White House, for its part, has offered little in the way of formal comment. When Variety reached out for a response, officials replied with a meme from Top Gun captioned, "I feel the need for speed," seemingly sidestepping the issue. This tongue-in-cheek reply did little to quell the criticism or address the core concerns about copyright and the ethics of AI-generated political messaging.
Meanwhile, Trump himself responded to the protests and the surrounding uproar with characteristic bluntness. Speaking to reporters on October 19, the president dismissed the demonstrations as "a joke," saying, "I’m not a king. I work my ass off to make our country great. That’s all it is. I’m not a king at all." He further characterized the demonstrators as "very small, very ineffective," and claimed, "the people were whacked out. When you look at those people, those are not representative of the people of our country." (Newsweek)
The AI video also drew the ire of liberal influencer Harry Sisson, who was depicted among the protesters. Sisson took to social media to question why the president would post such a video, asking on X, "Can a reporter please ask Trump why he posted an AI video of himself dropping poop on me from a fighter jet? That would be great thanks." Vice President JD Vance responded, "I’ll ask him for you Harry." Sisson, undeterred, posted on TikTok, "Unfortunately for Donald Trump and JD Vance, this will not stop me. This will not silence me." He also criticized the administration for targeting private citizens who disagree with them, calling it "pathetic."
As the debate rages on, the controversy has shone a spotlight on the intersection of technology, politics, and intellectual property. The use of AI-generated media—especially when it incorporates copyrighted materials without permission—raises thorny legal and ethical questions. And as Loggins and others have made clear, artists are increasingly unwilling to let their work be co-opted for political ends they do not support.
For now, the AI video remains on Trump’s Truth Social page, and the broader conversation about the boundaries of political messaging, artistic rights, and the power of AI continues to evolve. Whether future campaigns will heed the growing chorus of objections from creators remains an open question—but one thing is certain: the "Danger Zone" is no longer just a song, but a battleground in America’s ongoing culture wars.
