On a bustling corner in Philadelphia's Fishtown neighborhood, a new mural has become the talk of the city—and, frankly, a viral sensation far beyond. Painted on the side of Sulimay’s, a beloved local breakfast spot, the mural depicts U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance in a disturbingly comical, baby-like caricature, complete with a bald head, exaggerated features, and piercing blue eyes. The image, based on a now-infamous meme, has not only drawn crowds but also sparked a conversation about protest, political satire, and the power of art in the digital age.
The story of this mural’s creation is as colorful as the painting itself. According to Slate, the project was spearheaded by FUBAR PAC—a political action committee founded by Philadelphia native and Air Force veteran Jack Inacker. With just $300, a handful of hours, and a dream, Inacker and a group of friends set out to transform an internet joke into a larger-than-life statement. The result? A cobalt-blue backdrop framing the cartoonishly grotesque visage of Vance, his head even more misshapen than the meme that inspired it. The mural’s most haunting feature is its eyes—outlined in what locals have dubbed "emo eyeliner," so light blue they seem to follow you wherever you go.
The origin of the meme, which first surfaced on X in late 2024, is rooted in a broader trend of digitally altered images poking fun at Vance. There’s Minion Vance, Shrek Vance, even a Las Vegas Sphere Vance. But the "bald baby" version struck a particular chord, especially as it began appearing internationally—cropping up on the Irish parliamentary floor, plastered across English vans and billboards, and even cited in a bizarre tale involving a Norwegian tourist who claimed he was denied U.S. entry due to the meme on his phone. (U.S. Homeland Security later refuted this, but the mere plausibility of the story speaks volumes about the meme’s cultural reach.)
Back in Fishtown, the mural’s creation was a community affair. As The Philadelphia Inquirer reports, Inacker sourced wall space through a Reddit post, with Sulimay’s owner Chad Todd quickly volunteering. Todd, who calls himself "owner, chef, antagonist," was eager to support the project as a form of political protest. "No moral person can support what they’re doing," Todd said, referring to President Donald Trump and Vice President Vance. "I’ll take any opportunity to bring attention to it." For Todd, the mural was a way to express outrage at what he sees as the administration’s "havoc," especially in light of recent federal financial cuts and controversial policy decisions.
The actual painting took about 12 hours, starting on August 15, 2025. Inacker and his crew used a projector to trace the meme onto the wall, then filled it in with $200 worth of paint from Lowe’s and a healthy dose of improvisation. Fishtown residents stopped by to offer advice—one suggested the now-iconic eyeliner, another helped with touch-ups. The collaborative spirit extended beyond the artists, as passersby snapped photos, offered encouragement, and even lent a hand. "Painting a meme on the side of a building is dumb bullshit, right?" Inacker quipped to The Inquirer. "It’s fun to do with your friends, but I wanted to figure out a way to transform that into some meaningful action as well."
Meaningful action is exactly what Inacker hopes to inspire. Beyond serving as a photo opportunity, the mural is slated to become a tool for civic engagement. Inacker plans to install a plaque at the base of the mural, complete with a QR code linking directly to a voter registration form. "I want to make sure that the barrier to entry to politics is really low, that more folks can get involved, and they don’t have to do serious things all the time," he explained. "They can have a party together to paint their own JD."
Since its unveiling, the mural has become a viral phenomenon. TikTok videos of the painting process and the finished work have amassed millions of views and hundreds of thousands of likes, as reported by The Inquirer. Locals and tourists alike have made pilgrimages to Sulimay’s, eager to snap a selfie with the now-famous wall. One visitor, Ninoska Adam, traveled from Florida with her daughter, Victoria Glynn, just to see the mural while visiting family in Philadelphia. "We just had to come," Adam said, echoing the sentiment of many who have been drawn to the site.
The response from the community has been overwhelmingly positive, though not without its detractors. Some have threatened to boycott Sulimay’s, but Todd remains unfazed. "These poor brainwashed people saying they will never eat here! I don’t care. If I wanted them to eat here, I’d put pictures on the menu," he told Slate. For many Philadelphians, the mural is just another chapter in the city’s long tradition of using art as a vehicle for dissent and satire. As one visitor named Kara put it, "I guess if Virginia is for lovers, Philly is for haters."
The mural’s impact has extended well beyond Philadelphia. Its image has been co-opted by protest groups in England, appeared on billboards in Cheltenham, Oxfordshire, and become a fixture in the international meme landscape. According to Slate, the mural’s notoriety even led to a claim (albeit a disputed one) that a Norwegian tourist was denied entry into the U.S. because he had downloaded the meme. Meanwhile, Inacker has teased further plans for the mural, including adding hats for Halloween—a tongue-in-cheek nod to the city’s irreverent spirit.
For all its humor and absurdity, the mural serves a serious purpose: to spotlight what its creators and supporters see as the "terrible harms" of the Trump administration and to encourage political participation. As Inacker put it in a press email, "J.D. Vance gets a lot of hate. But it’s not enough. We can do better." The mural, he hopes, will be a "physical reminder of how J.D. Vance is a weirdo and a total sycophant for Donald Trump." Yet, it’s clear that the project is about more than just ridicule; it’s about forging community and sparking dialogue in a way that’s uniquely, unmistakably Philly.
Whether you see it as biting satire, political protest, or just a really good meme, the mural on the side of Sulimay’s has captured something essential about the city—and, perhaps, the moment. As long as people keep laughing (and thinking), it’s likely to keep watching over Fishtown, its piercing blue eyes daring you to look away.
