The recently revised food pyramid may put fruit as a medium priority, but there is nothing the Trump administration likes more than the apple of discord.

Every news cycle, the president seems intent on introducing something new for Americans to argue about: the wisdom (and legality) of war in Iraq; the term “affordability”; the efficacy of mail-in ballots (which the president recently used); the meaning of birthright; the legitimacy of a vice president who has been publicly admonished by two popes for writing a book about his conversion to Catholicism — heck, we’re still arguing about that new food pyramid.

But there is one recent development upon which we really should all agree — erecting a gold statue of President Trump in the middle of his proposed presidential library is a No Good, Very Bad Idea.

On Tuesday, the president’s son Eric posted a first-look video for said library, which will reside on the waterfront in Miami. While questions were raised about the inclusion of the Boeing 747-8 the president controversially accepted as a gift from Qatar and the apparent lack of space in the sky-scraping library for, you know, books, it was the enormous gold statue of Trump towering over the stage in a proposed auditorium that drew the most immediate attention.

That Trump chose to reveal this little (well, actually quite big) beauty mere days after millions of Americans across the country participated in a coordinated No Kings march can be taken as either breathtaking irony or, more probably, a rage-baiting metaphoric middle finger.

As he has been recently wont to do, California Gov. Gavin Newsom quickly responded on his press office X account with photos of gold statuary depicting former chairman of the Chinese Communist Party Mao Zedong, North Korea’s Kim Il-Sung and Turkmenistan’s Saparmurat Niyazov and the observation that “The gold statue in Trump’s new library (of himself) looks awfully familiar to a few others from around the world.”

Trump’s obsession with gold will no doubt obsess future generations of historians, artists, psychoanalysts and Wikipedia editors — the guerrilla art group Secret Handshake on Monday put up a gold toilet statue on the National Mall mocking the president’s plans to renovate the Lincoln bathroom during a time of war and strife, as tribute, according to the statue’s plaque, “to an unwavering visionary who looked down, saw a problem and painted it gold.”

But even allowing for personal taste, a big golden statue of Trump is a terrible idea. For him.

In times of trouble and/or leadership changes, statues are often the first to go — as Trump knows well, since he’s working to replace the Confederate generals displaced after the Black Lives Matter movement and recently erected, near the White House, a replica of the Christopher Columbus statue thrown into Baltimore’s Inner Harbor during 2020 protests.

After hearing the Declaration of Independence read publicly for the first time, members of the Sons of Liberty tore down a statue of King George III from Bowling Green; during the French Revolution, the kings all across Paris came down; ditto Napoleon when he fell out of favor. In Russia, tsarist monuments were replaced by statues of Communist leaders, which in turn were torn down — statues of Stalin also fell in Hungary, Georgia and Albania. More recently, a statue of Saddam Hussein famously met the same fate.

As Robert Frost might have put it: Something there is that doesn’t love a statue of a divisive leader. Especially if it’s gold.

OK, I added that last bit.

There are plenty of famous and popular gold statues — Thailand’s Golden Buddha; the Golden Madonna of Essen in Germany; Jeanne d’Arc in Paris; Prometheus at Rockefeller Center in New York; even Tutankhamun’s death mask and solid gold coffin, which travel the world. But, as perhaps you have noticed, they trend toward the religious, mythic or historic, i.e. dead.

In the lavish memorial erected by his grieving widow, Queen Victoria, Prince Albert is golden, but few world leaders are permanently gilded, and certainly not before their deaths. (London’s golden statue of King Charles II was erected during his lifetime but originally in bronze — the gold was added later. It also depicts Charles in Roman garb, so I suppose the Trump statue could be worse — at least we don’t see his naked knees.)

In the United States, golden statuary is rare and usually metaphoric — the Oregon Pioneer, the Golden Driller, the Spirit of Communication. Gold remains captivating, an aspirational symbol of success (“gold standard”) and wealth (“golden touch”), but it can also bring with it an air of mockery (“golden boy”) and warning. The original golden touch belonged to King Midas, who loved it until he accidentally killed his daughter by turning her into a gold statue.

Displays of it, particularly in architecture or public art, are often perceived as tacky, kitschy or, heaven forbid, nouveau riche. Trump is fine being perceived as all of these things; he has long embraced the gleaming excesses of Versailles — the golden elevator will also be featured in the new proposed library.

His personal taste is his right and is shared by many.

In terms of statuary, however, “golden” is most typically associated with “idol,” figures that are erected specifically to be worshiped — the Golden Calf that made God and Moses so angry comes to mind — and Americans, historically, have not been big fans of idolatry.

Hence the separation of church and state, a three-branch government and a president with a limited term. The early colonists were very much anti-idol worshippers and even modern Catholics, as Vice President Vance surely knows, have long been criticized by their Protestant counterparts for a love of statuary, reliquaries and other iconography that some have argued fall into idolatry.

Trump clearly has no problem with idolatry, as long as he is the idol in question — he has long characterized his supporters as people who will love him no matter what he does. So no one should be surprised that his son would anchor the Trump presidential library with an enormous golden statue of his father — Trump is not a man to be satisfied with bronze or, heaven forbid, a marble bust.

No doubt, any criticism of that statue will be met with derision from Trump supporters. In its many guises, idolatry has survived, despite regular and often cataclysmic proof of its dangers, for centuries and many people will consider a much-larger-than-life golden statue of a president to be perfectly splendid.

But someone might want to mention to the president that flashing a big gold statue of himself while cities are still doing cleanup from enormous No Kings marches might seem funny to some. But to others … well, Versailles was once a dazzling royal residence.

Until it wasn’t.