I think crafting comedy around the ever-fluctuating views of Donald Trump—who could be likened to Speedy Gonzales for his on-the-fly policymaking—resembles the game of pin the tail on the donkey, though that comparison may be unjust to donkeys. After all, no donkey has ever been accused of committing a sexual assault inside a department store changing room.
It’s 4:30 PM on Wednesday, and I’m finished for the day. Last week, I filed this column on Thursday, only for DJ Trump and JD Vance to put on a spectacular display of aggression against Volodymyr Zelenskyy live from the Oval Office the very next day, aiming to seize his resources with the same audacity that Trump might show in less savory pursuits—like a cruel homage to Tweedledum and Tweedledee clad in Sopranos-style suits.
Teenage delinquents caught on camera beating up a gas station clerk and looting the cash register display more integrity and respect than Trump and Vance in that now-legendary moment. At least those teenagers funnel their gains into local drug trades, boosting their community’s economy. The postwar order we once knew disintegrated before us, leaving the “humorous” quips I had written feeling stale and outdated as DJ and JD microwaved whatever remains of hope.
Since I began writing this at six o’clock this morning, Greenland, which seemed to have vanished from Trump’s ever-volatile mind for a brief period, has made a reappearance in his sights. Just nine hours ago, the adjudicated abuser addressed Congress, declaring he would acquire the rapidly melting, resource-rich territory “one way or another.” Who’s penning Trump’s statements? The dialogue in 1940s Batman comics is far superior—and the side characters certainly show more depth.
“I bring forth a message tonight to the wonderful citizens of Greenland,” proclaimed the convicted swindler. “We fully support your right to shape your own destiny. Should you wish, we welcome you to become part of the United States of America. We will ensure your safety. We will make you prosperous.” In Inuit folklore, the malevolent spirit Idlirvirissong resembles a clown with a peculiar nose, but laughing at its dance can lead to a grisly fate where it disembowels you and serves your entrails to its hounds. Qimitiaka nexessaqtaqpaka! Does that ring any bells for you, Inuits? I doubt Donald Trump would bother with the presentation.
The Inuit might want to consider Trump’s record with Indigenous Americans before they offer up their goodwill for the orange Idlirvirissong’s trinkets. Back on the mainland, reports indicate that Navajo individuals have found themselves swept up in immigration raids, simply because they don’t conform to a typical image, while Trump’s efforts to dismantle birthright citizenship complicate the question of First Nation identity. Greenland, in its native tongue, is Kalaallit Nunaat, meaning Island of the People. I can foresee that as soon as the acquisition is made, Google Maps will promptly rename it the Island of the McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish-People™® to align with Trump’s favorite snack.
The self-help book author’s advocacy for self-determination for the Inuit people contradicts his stance on the sovereignty of Ukrainians, whom he seems to envision living as Tolkienesque miner-slaves under the dominion of whatever nefarious sorcerer possesses the most powerful magical eye. However, we are quickly realizing that pointing out the inconsistencies of the bathroom document hoarder, or placing any faith in his promises from one day to the next, is a futile endeavor. The Budapest Memorandum of 1994, endorsed by both Russia and the US, prohibits military action or economic coercion against Ukraine. But oh well, money has its own voice! Budapest just stepped aside!
Let’s admit it, America has become our adversary. JD Vance seems intent on destabilizing Europe, ostensibly due to our concerns over “freedom of speech,” although it may stem from a fear that enhanced internet safety could thwart the profits of American tech moguls who relentlessly spew disinformation and misinformation into our sphere, all while claiming it’s illegal to pray in Scotland. Trump’s outlook for the future envisions a divided world divided amongst Russia, China, and the US, where the rest of us are left to scramble over the leftovers. Our Trident missiles rely on American technology for maintenance. Our so-called “deterrent” hinges on the ongoing allegiance of someone who believes the Chinese invented global warming and that Keir Starmer governs Ireland. And that’s not even the worst part.
During the spring of 2020, as the early excitement of lockdown transitioned into a spiral of existential dread, I found myself lying on my back well into the night in the garden—one of the few places we were able to access—and gazing at the stars in the now noticeably clearer sky. Suddenly, I spotted a long convoy of lights moving in a mechanical but eerie formation across the static backdrop of stars.
Was it a synchronized strike by the Russian air force? Or perhaps the second wave of an alien invasion, with our planet already weakened by their infectious virus? No, as the internet swiftly informed me, it was a procession of 60 “Starlink” communication satellites—part of a total of 7,000—that conspicuously orbit the planet, all belonging to someone named Elon Musk. Until that moment, I was blissfully ignorant of the existence of this ketamine-fueled cap goblin.
A fortnight ago, as Ukraine steadfastly resisted Trump’s attempts to commandeer its natural resources, Musk reportedly threatened to disable the country’s connection to Starlink, a move that could have crippled its military defenses. We find ourselves at the mercy of American tech companies in virtually every facet of our lives, through services like Google, Amazon, PayPal, Facebook, and a multitude of social media platforms. Musk’s actions reveal that their Trump-aligned owners may wield these tools as weapons in conflicts with dissenters. It’s repugnant to sacrifice the delicate diplomacy of foreign aid in order to indulge in military extravagance while simultaneously exposing our technological vulnerabilities.
Starmer believes he can juggle both a hostile Trump and our natural allies within the EU, and perhaps he can. To be fair, I once witnessed a man at the Edinburgh Fringe in the 1980s swinging a massive claw hammer from a hole in his penis while simultaneously swallowing a fluorescent light tube.
