PUBLISHED in October 2016 in anticipation of the American presidential election of either Hilary Clinton or Donald Trump, this cover image by Barbara Kruger for N.Y. Mag is one that testifies that art is always to come as we retrospectively & anachronistically reread it today, tomorrow, forever. Today, four years on following four years of Trump the parodic reality of which Saturday Night Live failed to parody during his term, a magazine cover became art the day Trump was elected president. Susan Sontag's theory that parody is immune to interpretation is made manifest. At the time N.Y. Mag editors wrote "how we’re drawn to it, in part, for the three ways in which it could be interpreted: as Trump speaking (single word epithets being his specialty); as a description of Trump; and as a call on the election result. The editors amended their three to four ways by concluding that "an important point is spelled out in the headline we appended to the bottom corner: Trump has already changed America, not much for the better. Which adds a fourth meaning: in that sense we are all losers too." By adding this fourth meaning, the editors, not the artist, intimate Trump's defeat by writing "And what he's already won." It suggests, in that defeatist way, that Trump has won even if he doesn't win. There is hope in the editors' tag. Clinton's election night party was held at New York Javits Center, a building made mostly of glass. Clinton had talked about glass ceilings, "the highest & hardest glass ceiling" repeatedly vs Trump & vs Obama 8 years previous when other ceilings were broken: a black president. There's defeat in glass ceiling talk too. Kruger's Trump is cropped of his hair & complexion—those pumpkin innards splat on his head & that tangerine dream skin. Without his defining caricature Trump's identity hangs on a word, LOSER. Black, white & red all over, LOSER is a word that has been redefined by TRUMP's presidency. Dead troops are LOSERS, China will be a LOSER, we are losers, even if we win. Barbara Kruger's timeliness becomes timeless, not in a gallery, but a kiosk with a newsstand & the sight & smell of hotdog vapours spiralling up our noses. Achoo!