It has come to my attention—between bouts of staring into the abyss and wondering if the abyss is hiring—that the Pentagon is currently experiencing a rare moment of existential silence. According to the latest dispatches from the five-sided temple of organized violence and overpriced coffee, the military’s top brass has not yet been asked to draw up plans for the invasion of Greenland. It is a sentence so profoundly stupid it could only exist in the 21st century: the world’s most powerful military is essentially standing by for the order to colonize a giant, melting rock because a man with a golden toilet and a 19th-century map once decided it would be a nice addition to the portfolio.

The Pentagon, of course, prides itself on being prepared for every possible disaster, from a nuclear exchange with a nuclear-armed gas station to an uprising of sentient toasters. They have contingency plans for scenarios that would make a science fiction writer blush, yet they are currently in the awkward position of waiting for the 'Big One'—the command to liberate the Inuit from the crushing tyranny of Danish social democracy. The fact that this is even a headline is a testament to the terminal vanity of the American project. We have moved past the era of 'spreading democracy' and straight into the era of 'real estate acquisition by force.' It’s manifest destiny for the TikTok generation, a blunt-force land grab that treats international law like a Terms and Conditions agreement that nobody actually reads before clicking 'Accept.'

On the Right, the prospect of acquiring Greenland is treated with the kind of slobbering enthusiasm usually reserved for a deep-fried steak. To the MAGA faithful, Greenland is the ultimate trophy—a strategic outpost, a mineral-rich treasure chest, and a giant middle finger to the 'globalists.' They don’t see a sovereign territory or a complex ecosystem; they see a blank space on a map that needs a 'Trump' sign in gold leaf. It is the height of atavistic greed, a return to the days of colonial plunder disguised as 'strategic foresight.' They ignore the fact that the land is currently inhabited by people who have absolutely no desire to become the 51st state, primarily because they’ve seen how we treat the first 50. The Right’s intellectual vanguard—a term I use with maximum irony—thinks they can simply buy a country like it’s a failed Atlantic City casino, oblivious to the reality that you can’t declare bankruptcy on a geopolitical catastrophe.

Meanwhile, on the Left, the reaction is a predictable symphony of performative outrage and pearl-clutching. They are 'horrified' by the lack of decorum, 'appalled' by the disregard for sovereignty, and 'deeply concerned' about the environmental impact. It is a masterclass in hypocrisy. The same establishment that has spent decades looking the other way while American corporations strip-mined the Global South suddenly discovers the sanctity of borders when the threat comes in the form of a crude tweet. They don’t actually care about Greenland; they care that the imperialism is being done without the proper neoliberal vocabulary. If the annexation were rebranded as a 'Sustainable Arctic Initiative' led by a diverse board of McKinsey consultants, they would be lining up to offer the Pentagon their 'humanitarian' support. Their objection isn’t to the power trip; it’s to the aesthetic of the person driving the tank.

The reality, which both sides are too intellectually bankrupt to acknowledge, is that Greenland is a symbol of our collective collapse. We are talking about invading a territory that is literally disappearing. The ice is melting, the sea levels are rising, and the only response the American empire can muster is to wonder how we can drill for more oil in the gaps where the glaciers used to be. It is a closed-loop system of idiocy: we burn carbon to get rich, the ice melts, and then we plan a military operation to seize the newly exposed ground so we can burn more carbon. It is the logic of a parasite that realizes it has killed the host and decides the best course of action is to start eating the neighbor’s corpse.

The Pentagon’s 'not yet' is the most chilling part of this entire charade. It implies a 'soon.' It suggests that the bureaucracy is simply waiting for the paperwork to catch up with the lunacy. In the halls of power, the prospect of an Arctic war isn’t a tragedy or a farce—it’s just another line item in a budget that is already bloated with the blood of more relevant nations. Whether the order comes tomorrow or after the next election cycle, the outcome is the same: a desperate, fading superpower trying to buy a future on a planet it has already decided to set on fire. It would be funny if it weren't so incredibly boring.