The Icy Stage of the Conspiratocracy: Trump, Putin, and the Theater of Hollow Thunder

It was beneath the cold, translucent dome of Alaskan sky that the two performers—each bloated on borrowed mythologies and slathered in the makeup of statesmanship—entered stage left. One oozed in orange defiance, a man as familiar with reality as a child is with nuclear protocol; the other, stewed in vodka and historical grievance, played his role with the grave, twitching pride of a bear poked once too often.