When the Button Is Bigger Than the Judgment

Dear reader, Grab your dry martini and come with me. The stage is set, the spotlights are on — and the generals, as always, are dancing a bloody ballet. This time, the main dancers are three gentlemen: a Supreme Leader hiding behind a turban stuffed with gunpowder; a Prime Minister who believes he’s the messiah of a nation armed to the teeth; and, of course, the blonde-wigged buffoon back in the White House, with a “button” in his pocket and zero filter on his mouth.

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