It's Just World War 3...
...if we're lucky.
I feel like I’m on a treadmill, writing the same warning over and over, a Substack Sisyphus, screaming that he’s going to kill us all, and we are as a nation still shrugging off his drunken stumble into the Apocalypse.
Someone asked me on Monday if I thought he would start World War III.
I replied: “Only if we’re lucky. It could be so much worse.”
Donald Trump has the strategic depth of a parking lot puddle and the historical curiosity of a lobotomized goldfish raised in a vodka aquarium. He views the map of the Middle East not as a complex lattice of ancient grievances and nuclear ambitions, but as a giant, gold-plated Monopoly board where he can just flip the table when the bank starts calling in his debts.
After all…he’s done it his entire life. When he wrecks everything, he creates a newer, bigger, uglier crisis to cover the first raging disaster. It’s not working anymore.
He honestly believes Iran is playing by his rules, but his rules are the Roy Cohn con, the Roger Stone syphilitic shuffle, the Steve Bannon bellow, the third-rate Atlantic
