MacArthur Park (Authoritarian Remix)

What happens when fascism meets a film crew—and kids are still on the playground.

On July 7th, 2025, MacArthur Park in Los Angeles was flooded with armored vehicles, federal agents, riot horses, and... a camera crew.

There was no threat. No bust. Just terrified kids at summer camp, vendors fleeing, and men in tactical gear pointing rifles at bushes while Dr. Phil’s production team captured the chaos.

It was a Trump-branded simulation—a choreographed photo op for a new “ICE reality” series.

This wasn’t a raid. It was spectacle. A propaganda rehearsal. A sick audition for authoritarianism.

I wrote this in the key of Donna Summer. Because sometimes the only way to expose absurdity is to belt it from the disco floor.

To the tune of Donna Summer’s "MacArthur Park." Sung with fury. Shared with love.

Spring was never fake like this before
Now boots stomp through the green
As sirens whine like drones
Between the jump cuts, terror’s on cue
A TV-friendly siege
With extras running home

MacArthur Park got raided for a shot
All the faux-tough optics streaming down
Someone brought in tanks to stage a show
I don't think that we can fake it
'Cause our lives—they're gonna take it
And we’ll never get that normal back again—again
(Oh no, oh no…)

(Ooh ooh ooh—Cut! Print!)
(Ooh ooh ooh—Ride the horses!)

The park was just a park before the play
With murals, mango ice, and games
Then twenty kids were sheltered in a shack
As soldiers posed for reels
Pretending they were brave

MacArthur Park got cleared for “God’s work”
ICE with horses chasing pigeons down
Someone weaponized a soccer field
And they did it for a segment
Sold America resentment
And they’ll do it all again, again
(Again… oh no…)

There will be another flash grenade
And they will gladly use it
There will be another raid parade
And they’ll reframe and use it
They will roll the tape while it is raw
And tell you this is justice, not a con

And after all the lies they televise
After all the truths they stylize
They’ll still re-run the take
And Phil will narrate

I will take my rage into my hands and I will wield it
I will not be B-roll in their lies, I won’t conceal it
They may own the frame, but not the soul
And we’ll shout it from each rooftop, barrio, and knoll
And after all the fear they choreograph
We’ll still be the laugh—
The one that stings

MacArthur Park was never meant for this
But they filmed it like a conquest on the lawn
Someone called this safety. It was fear.
They staged LA’s “rescue”
But the only thing worth braving
Was the sound of kids just trying to play again—again

Ooh, Ooh—ride the horses
Ooh, Ooh—aim at shadows
Ooh, Ooh—pose for cameras
Ooh, Ooh—God’s work, huh?

Cut. Print. America.

If this shook you:

• Share it.

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• Vote like they’ll bring the horses to your park next time.