If you needed definitive proof that the human experiment has failed and that we should simply hand the keys over to the cockroaches, look no further than the recent spectacle at the World Economic Forum in Davos. Here, amidst the frozen peaks of the Swiss Alps, the world’s self-appointed elites gathered to congratulate themselves on their benevolent stewardship of a planet they are actively strip-mining. Into this circle jerk of technocratic hypocrisy waddled Donald Trump, the id of America made manifest in bronzer and ill-fitting worsted wool, to remind everyone that the only thing worse than a smug neoliberal is a chaotic narcissist with a microphone.

For more than an hour, the former—and perhaps future, God help us all—President of the United States stood at the podium and verbally defecated on the concept of diplomacy. It was billed as a keynote address, but let’s call it what it was: a therapy session for a man whose ego requires the constant sacrifice of reality. He didn't offer policy; he offered grievances. He didn't offer a vision; he offered a erratic shopping list of things he hates and things he wants to buy.

Let’s start with the windmills. In the year of our Lord 2024, the man who once held the nuclear codes is still obsessing over wind turbines like Don Quixote after a traumatic brain injury. He ranted about them killing birds. This, coming from a man whose administration did more to gut environmental protections than a burning oil tanker, is rich. But the audience of corporate executives sat there, presumably nodding politely, because in the twisted calculus of late-stage capitalism, you tolerate the incoherent ramblings of a madman if you think he might cut your corporate tax rate by another half a percent. It is the ultimate transaction: dignity for dividends.

Then there was NATO. Trump, in his infinite wisdom, treats the North Atlantic Treaty Organization like a mafia protection racket. "Nice continent you got there," he essentially grunted. "Shame if something happened to it because you didn't pay your dues." The Europeans, for their part, clutched their pearls in performative shock. These are the same European leaders who have happily offloaded their defense spending onto the American taxpayer for decades while sneering at American culture. Watching the vacuous moral superiority of the EU collide with the brute-force avarice of Trump is like watching two drunk drivers crash into each other in slow motion. You don't root for either of them; you just hope the debris doesn't hit you.

And, of course, Greenland. He brought up buying Greenland again. Because to a man whose entire worldview is shaped by Manhattan real estate development, a sovereign territory with an indigenous population is just a distressed asset waiting for a rebrand and a gold-plated hotel. The sheer absurdity of it—treating an autonomous country like a foreclosure in Queens—would be funny if it weren't being proposed by a man with a legitimate shot at regaining the most powerful office on Earth. It highlights the fundamental rot at the core of his philosophy: everything, literally everything, is for sale. History, geography, people—it's all just leverage in a deal that exists only in his head.

But the truly nauseating part of this spectacle wasn't Trump himself; we know who he is. He is a known quantity of chaos. No, the real horror show was the audience. These corporate titans, these masters of the universe who descend on Davos to lecture the plebeians on sustainability and equity, sat there and absorbed the abuse. They fear his tariffs, yes. They fear the trade wars that he threatened to rekindle with the casual malice of a child burning ants with a magnifying glass. But mostly, they fear irrelevance. They know that the populist wave Trump rides is a direct reaction to their own greed and mismanagement, yet they have no solution other than to smile, clap, and hope the tiger eats someone else first.

Trump blasted Europe, threatened trade wars, and insulted the very premise of international cooperation. And what will change? Nothing. The Davos crowd will go back to their private jets, sipping champagne and plotting how to monetize the apocalypse. Trump will go back to his rallies, feeding red meat to a base that has been economically hollowed out by the very people he was addressing. The cycle of stupidity is a closed loop. The Left offers performative outrage without substance; the Right offers destructive nihilism without a plan. And in the middle, the rest of us are forced to watch this theater of the absurd, wondering if it's too late to ask Denmark if *we* can move to Greenland.