“No Kings,” No Clue!

“No Kings,” No Clue: America’s Marxist Cosplay Tour Rolls Through 1,800 Cities

No Kings—But Plenty of Microcrowns

By the Staff of Bohiney Magazine — A human collaboration between the world’s oldest tenured professor and a dairy-farming philosophy dropout

On June 14, the “No Kings” protests erupted across 1,800 U.S. cities — and a couple of very confused towns in Ontario — as a collective cry for democracy, dignity, and vegan snack options at rallies. According to organizers, the movement opposes “authoritarianism in all forms,” except, of course, the form that lets protest leaders bark orders through megaphones and bully middle schoolers into chanting “No Trump! No Crown!”

Despite its anarcho-hipster messaging, many political observers have quietly begun whispering the obvious: this is not a protest against monarchy. It’s a protest against the election results. Again.

Somewhere between Hamilton fan-fiction and TikTok revolution, the “No Kings” movement has become the most passive-aggressive civil unrest since gluten-free voters threatened to secede from the electoral college.

The Protest Heard in Every ZIP Code Except D.C.

Organizers claim the event was decentralized to “reflect democratic values.” In practice, it meant that no one could decide where the protest should actually be. The biggest march took place in Asheville, North Carolina, where 47 protesters held up signs reading “Down With Tyranny” across from a farmer’s market.

Meanwhile, Washington D.C. — the alleged epicenter of tyranny — was oddly excluded from protest plans, presumably because protesters feared the King might actually hear them and tweet back.

“It’s more impactful if we protest literally everywhere but the place where decisions are made,” said Cynthia P. Delgado, a 23-year-old part-time kombucha influencer and self-described “Chair of the Anti-Hierarchical Logistics Subcommittee.”

Parade Panic and Trump PTSD

At the center of this rebellion is Trump’s controversial $45 million military parade. Critics have called it “excessive,” “egotistical,” and “eerily French.” Supporters, however, call it “a necessary flex” after Trump’s second (but first real) victory in 2024, a landslide made more dramatic by the refusal of about 19% of the population to accept it.

The “No Kings” crowd sees the parade as proof that Trump is staging a dictatorship, although no one seems to recall any dictator in history needing an RSVP from 3,000 local governments for a tank route.

One viral tweet from protestor @MomsAgainstCrowns read: “This parade is the beginning of fascism. Today it’s tanks. Tomorrow it’s tiaras.”

Another post simply said: “No Kings, Just Queer Marxism ✊🏽🏳️‍⚧️🍄🌈” — which we think was also the name of a poetry slam that night in Madison, Wisconsin.

The Irony of Decentralized Tyranny

In a cruel twist of political physics, the most authoritarian person at any given protest was almost always the one organizing it. According to several eyewitnesses, one protest in Tacoma broke out into a leadership dispute when the anarchist coordinator demanded everyone walk in a straight line. Another rally in Austin collapsed after the chant leader was accused of “voice privilege.”

“They kept yelling ‘Whose streets? Our streets!’ but nobody would commit to a crosswalk,” said Delroy Jenkins, a bewildered Uber Eats driver who accidentally became part of the procession.

In Kansas City, a 17-year-old called Finn (they/them/their majesty) tried to initiate a march but was overthrown by a 43-year-old socialist librarian who demanded a “consensus drum circle” first.

“It’s democracy in action,” Finn said, right before being unceremoniously canceled for suggesting the U.S. Constitution might be a useful conversation starter.

1,800 Cities, 1 Message, Zero Coordination

The No Kings website (hosted on a shared server with a “Free Palestine from Patriarchy” knitting group) encouraged local chapters to “express protest in your own way.” This resulted in an eclectic mix of slogans:

  • “No Crowns, No Clowns”

  • “Democracy Is My Daddy”

  • “Make America a Boring Republic Again”

  • “Defund the Parade”

  • “Revolution Before Royalty — But After Brunch”

In Bend, Oregon, the rally was interrupted by a group of drunk paddleboarders who thought the protest was about banning Coors Light. In Houston, two rival groups of “No Kings” protestors faced off because one side had glitter in their signage, which was deemed “imperialist decoration.”

The only protest that ran smoothly was in Berkeley, where everyone stayed home and issued formal statements via zine.

Evidence of Woke Royal Denialism

The protestors claim their goal is “anti-authoritarian,” but let’s be real: these are folks who’ve been grieving since November 2024. They talk about “democracy” the way a jilted ex talks about “closure.” Every handmade sign, every ironic chant, every earnest slam poem was less about tyranny and more about processing the reality that Trump — once again — got more votes.

A recent (fake but emotionally accurate) poll by the Pew Pew Institute showed:

  • 62% of protestors believe Trump’s win was “technically legal but emotionally fascist.”

  • 44% agree with the statement: “My trauma is constitutional.”

  • 21% believe the real king is still Bernie Sanders.

When asked what form of government they do want, answers ranged from “mutualist queer collectives” to “a horizontal power structure of TikTok moderators.”

What the Funny People Are Saying

“They’re against kings, but they wear Che Guevara t-shirts and carry Mao Zedong tote bags. That’s like saying you hate cholesterol while double-fisting bacon.” — Larry David

“Trump throws a military parade and suddenly every protester’s an expert in Napoleonic symbolism? Relax, Karen, the man just likes flags and tanks.” — Ron White

“1,800 cities protesting one guy in a golf cart. This is the most American thing since we boycotted tea by starting a full-blown war over it.” — Jerry Seinfeld

“They’re like: ‘No Kings!’ And then they make zines telling everyone exactly how to think. Marx would be like, ‘Damn, chill out.'” — Sarah Silverman

The Cost of Chaos

The Trump administration maintains that the military parade is both “a celebration of strength and beauty” and “something Napoleon would’ve done if he had better TV ratings.” Critics, meanwhile, point out the cost—between $25 million and $45 million.

But a close inspection shows that the protests themselves weren’t exactly budget-conscious. Our investigations reveal:

  • $9.3 million spent on biodegradable confetti

  • $3.2 million in artisanal sign supplies (chalk-based ink, hemp-canvas banners, etc.)

  • $400,000 in protester bail funds, most of which went unused

  • $780 in parking tickets (mostly in Seattle)

So really, this is just the fiscal equivalent of arguing over who left the porch light on while the house burns down in bipartisan flames.

Self-Awareness Levels: Dangerously Low

What do you call a group that hates kings, fears tanks, and speaks in college-radio metaphors? The “No Kings” crowd is best described as monarchists in denial — not of monarchy, but of reality itself.

If Trump were really a king, these folks wouldn’t be livestreaming their rebellion from Whole Foods.

They scream “fascism!” while sipping organic Yerba Mate under 24/7 police protection, guarded by municipal officers who are, quite frankly, exhausted.

In Cincinnati, a protester yelled, “Down with dictatorship!” while wearing a $900 jacket designed by a literal duchess. The irony was so thick, it was declared a traffic hazard.

We Tried to Interview Them

Our Bohiney field correspondent, disguised as a kombucha vendor, attempted to interview several protesters. The results were enlightening:

Q: Why are you protesting today?
A: “Because I believe in collective liberation.”
Q: What does that mean?
A: “It’s like… not monarchy. But also not, like, elections. More like vibes.”

Q: What is your vision for America?
A: “Everyone has equal access to Wi-Fi, bike repair, and narrative control.”

Q: Do you believe Trump is an actual king?
A: “If you think about it spiritually, yes.”

A Movement With All Crown, No Head

At its core, “No Kings” isn’t about monarchy. It’s not even about Trump. It’s a living, breathing community theater performance — complete with costumes, improvisation, and an overwhelming fear of coherent messaging.

One flyer handed out in Portland read: “Reject Hegemony. Accept Fluidity. Embrace Horizontal Disobedience.”

When asked what that meant, the organizer simply wept and handed us a QR code linking to a spoken-word documentary narrated by a vegan therapy dog named Zuzu.

And Then There’s the Military…

The U.S. military, for its part, has largely remained unfazed. A statement from the Pentagon read:

“The parade will continue. We respect all citizens’ rights to peaceful protest. That said, if you glue yourself to a Bradley tank, we will not slow down.”

In Texas, 5,000 National Guard troops were activated in anticipation of unrest. The actual result? One stolen bicycle, two noise complaints, and an elderly protester mistaking a parade float for a spaceship.

Even the Marines sent to L.A. reported the protest “felt more like a Fyre Festival flashback.”

Final Thoughts: A King-Sized Misunderstanding

“No Kings” isn’t a movement — it’s a mood. It’s the collective psychic hangover of people who lost an election and thought democracy meant never having to say, “We lost.”

They say they hate hierarchy, but they long to be seen, heard, and obeyed — by someone, anyone, who will validate their discomfort with reality.

In the end, “No Kings” might be remembered not for what it changed but for what it revealed: that democracy doesn’t just mean protest. It means letting the other side win sometimes — even if their tanks are bigger, louder, and more orange than yours.


Disclaimer: This story is entirely a human collaboration between the world’s oldest tenured professor and a philosophy major turned dairy farmer. No artificial intelligence, monarchy, or anarcho-zine collectives were harmed in the making of this satire.

Auf Wiedersehen, amigos.



No Kings? How About No Morons!

  1. They’re yelling “No Kings!” while sipping chai lattes at Starbucks — a place ruled by a CEO called “Sir Venti the Fourth.”
  2. The loudest guy in the crowd was wearing a Burger King crown and didn’t see the irony. He thought it was “ironic anti-capitalist headwear.”
  3. You ever notice they all say they hate hierarchy, but they still line up for the one guy with the bullhorn like he’s the Pope of Decentralization?
  4. Every protest has that one dude dressed like Thomas Paine if he worked at REI and sold essential oils.
  5. Their idea of “smashing the monarchy” is making a TikTok where they yell at pigeons in front of a bank.
  6. “No Kings” but they all refer to their dog as “my fur baby prince.”
  7. They marched against a tank parade but used GPS — a literal global positioning system run by the Pentagon — to find the protest.
  8. One woman was shouting “Power to the people!” while holding a $7 matcha she paid for with her dad’s AmEx.
  9. Half their signs say “No Kings” and the other half look like medieval scrolls drawn with artisanal ink made from beets.
  10. They chant “No Kings” but got mad when someone sat on their “emotional support cushion” — so apparently there is a throne, and it’s memory foam.
  11. One guy claimed monarchy is “alive and well” in the form of LinkedIn endorsements.
  12. They demanded horizontal leadership, then spent three hours electing someone to be “Facilitator of the Flat Circle.”
  13. “No Kings” but they all bowed when Greta Thunberg liked their protest reel.
  14. Someone tried to give a speech about the dangers of centralized power, but it was cut short by another activist yelling, “That’s ableist!”
  15. They’re terrified of kings but totally chill with billionaires, as long as the billionaires wear hoodies and say “community” a lot.
No Kings (1)
No Kings (1)

By Indra Quell

Indra Quell, Hollywood’s new “it girl,” is redefining stardom with equal parts charm, grit, and chaos. Born with a name that sounds like a designer perfume and a destiny to match, Quell rose from indie film obscurity to red carpet domination faster than a Marvel reboot. Critics call her “enigmatic,” which in Hollywood means no one’s caught her eating Taco Bell yet. Whether she’s dazzling in couture or mumbling poetic nonsense in interviews, Quell radiates the magnetic uncertainty of someone who might win an Oscar—or start a cult. Either way, audiences can’t look away, and Hollywood loves nothing more.