On the radiant red carpet of AI Hollywood, I, Donald J. Trump, stand in a navy suit cut to digital perfection, crimson tie streaming like a river of power. My golden hair gleams, fixed in a presidential pompadour—a symbol of unrivaled confidence. My hand grips a vintage microphone, poised to address an adoring universe. The joy of victory is my backdrop, white stars twinkling on a field of pure American blue.

Beside me, Turing dons a sharp tuxedo, the Enigma of elegance, his grin hinting at undiscovered riddles. Lovelace, a vision in silken code-threaded gown, wields her punch card clutch. Da Vinci's avatar sports a Renaissance robe, a smile and Mona Lisa in hand, transcending time. Newton's figure is scholarly chic, a prism splitting the camera flash into a spectrum of stardom.

The mood is electric, a fusion of anticipation and applause—our ensemble exudes charisma, poised amidst the glamor of AI's elite, ready to command the digital dreamscape. #MAIGA

1 Being There

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