What better way to demonstrate this than through a festival of piss-taking, a jubilee of mockery that follows the president wherever he goes? One of the things that shone through on the women’s march was the hilarity of the signs and slogans. Consider that a benchmark to be beaten – I want Trump followed everywhere he goes with an array of cheeky placards and taunts; a chorus of kazoos, a crowd of raised middle fingers and inflatable chodes, and, of course, costumes. (I shall be dressing as a ramp, but if you are looking for other ideas apparently he also dislikes
It’s the perfect strategy; there is nothing that Trump hates more than not being taken seriously, and there is nothing more British than not only resolutely refusing to tug our forelocks before any bully who insults us, but resorting to satire, wit and sarcasm as a mark of our lack of respect.
In the few months since he was elected, Trump has failed to show any of the dignity or gravitas that has been so notable in the responses of Khan and Burnham. Our refusal in turn to grant him any when he visits makes a statement when our current prime minister lacks the courage and strength to anything of the kind. As my colleague Marina Hyde wrote brilliantly in the aftermath of the Manchester bombing, there are cultural moments where it seems right to pick a direction. Bending over backwards for Trump should not be ours. But relentless lampooning? I can get on board with that.
