In a political climate already brimming with controversy and spectacle, the events of the past weekend have added yet another layer to America’s ongoing debate over protest, presidential conduct, and the boundaries of satire. President Donald Trump’s decision to share an AI-generated video of himself, crowned and piloting a fighter jet labeled “KING TRUMP,” dropping what appeared to be excrement on crowds of “No Kings” protesters, has drawn sharp reactions from both sides of the aisle—and thrust House Speaker Mike Johnson into the center of the storm.
On Monday, October 20, 2025, Speaker Johnson (R-La.) faced a barrage of questions from reporters eager to understand how the nation’s highest-ranking congressional Republican could justify the president’s crude social media post. According to The Independent, Johnson chuckled when asked about the video, before replying, “The president uses social media to make a point. You can argue he’s probably the most effective person who’s ever used social media for that. He is using satire to make a point.” Johnson insisted that Trump’s video was not a call for violence, but rather a satirical response to what he and other Republicans have described as a “Hate America” rally.
Yet, the Speaker’s defense did not end there. Johnson went further, claiming—without evidence—that some protesters at the “No Kings” rallies were themselves inciting violence. He displayed photos of protest signs, including one that read “86 47” and another depicting a noose with a figure labeled “DJT,” Trump’s initials. According to Johnson, “He is not calling for the murder of his political opponents, and that’s what these people are doing.” The phrase “86 47” was interpreted by Johnson as a coded call to reject or even harm the 47th president, a claim that has been met with skepticism and criticism from Democrats and many in the media.
As reported by Salon, Johnson said at the press conference, “They’re trying to incite violence. It’s not funny. You don’t mock a president who has already had two failed assassination attempts on his life.” His remarks echoed a broader Republican narrative that has painted the “No Kings” protests as not only anti-Trump, but also anti-American and potentially dangerous. House Majority Whip Tom Emmer (R-Minn.) even went so far as to label the rallies “the terrorist wing of the Democratic Party.”
But what actually happened at the “No Kings” rallies? By all credible accounts—including coverage from The Independent and HuffPost—the protests were overwhelmingly peaceful. More than seven million people gathered in cities across the country to denounce what they see as President Trump’s expanded use of executive power, including military and National Guard deployments into Democrat-led cities and mass ICE arrests. Organizers and attendees alike made a point to denounce political violence, emphasizing their commitment to nonviolent protest. Democrats have hailed the rallies as a patriotic expression of dissent, a far cry from the chaos Republicans predicted.
Nevertheless, the specter of violence was invoked repeatedly by Republican leaders. According to HuffPost, Johnson displayed images of protest signs and referenced isolated incidents, such as a Chicago teacher who was fired for making a gun gesture during the protest and a Democratic candidate in Virginia who sent threatening texts. “Where are the Democrats that are crying out about how horrific that was?” Rep. Chip Roy (R-Texas) asked, seeking to shift the focus from the president’s behavior to the actions of a few individuals among millions of peaceful demonstrators.
For many observers, the president’s AI-generated video was not just another social media stunt, but a new low in political discourse. The video, set to the 1986 hit “Danger Zone,” featured Trump gleefully bombing protesters with liquid waste. The choice of soundtrack did not go unnoticed: Kenny Loggins, the singer behind “Danger Zone,” quickly issued a statement through NPR, saying, “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 added, “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.”
Amid the uproar over the video, the government remained in its third week of shutdown. Republicans blamed Senate Democrats for refusing to pass a clean continuing resolution (CR) to fund the government, accusing them of catering to protest organizers. Senate Democrats, in turn, argued for the inclusion of enhanced tax credits for the Affordable Care Act’s health insurance marketplace—a demand House Republicans dismissed as “corporate welfare.” Speaker Johnson kept the House out of session, insisting, as reported by The Independent, that the House had already “done its job” by passing a clean CR. “Now that their ‘hate America’ rally is over, I hope that at least five Senate Democrats will finally do the right and responsible thing by breaking ranks with Chuck Schumer, passing our clean CR and reopening the government,” Emmer told reporters.
The “No Kings” movement, meanwhile, has become a flashpoint for broader anxieties about American democracy and the limits of presidential power. Protesters voiced concern over Trump’s use of the military and secret police in American cities, as well as his pardoning of the January 6 Capitol rioters—a move supported by Johnson and many other Republicans in Congress. While Republicans have sought to portray the left as prone to violence and chaos, critics have pointed out the irony, noting that the most significant recent instance of political violence came from Trump’s own supporters.
Throughout it all, Speaker Johnson has remained unwavering in his support for the president, brushing off concerns about Trump’s increasingly provocative social media presence. When asked about previous offensive AI videos—such as one depicting House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries in a sombrero—Johnson advised his Democratic counterpart to “just ignore it.” As he put it, “These are games. These are sideshows. People are getting caught up in—in battles over social media memes. This is not a game. We’ve got to keep the government open for the people. I don’t know why this is so complicated.”
As the Senate prepared to reconvene on Monday to once again vote on the continuing resolution, there was little sign that any minds would be changed or that the shutdown would end soon. The spectacle of the past weekend—AI videos, accusations of incitement, and the ongoing legislative standoff—underscored just how divided American politics has become, and how the lines between satire, provocation, and genuine threat can blur in the age of social media.
Ultimately, the controversy surrounding President Trump’s AI video and Speaker Johnson’s defense of it reveals more about the current state of American political life than about any one rally or social media post. In a nation still grappling with the boundaries of free speech, protest, and presidential power, the events of this weekend are unlikely to be the last word.
