You can’t make this up. If you tried, people would tell you to go lie down and stop being crazy. But here we are. A courtroom in London. A man is on trial for a terrible crime. And the star witness? A Trump. Not the one you’re thinking of. Not the one who shouts at clouds. The quiet one. Barron. The one who usually looks like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet. I don’t blame him. I’d rather be anywhere else too.

According to the news, Barron was on a video call with a woman in London. Then things went south. He allegedly saw a man assault her right there on his screen. He called the police. Now the man in court is saying he wasn’t angry about the call. He says the call didn’t bother him at all. Do you believe that? I don’t believe anything anyone says in a courtroom. It’s all a show. It’s a play where everyone gets paid to lie or look sad. It’s a room full of people pretending that the world still makes sense.

Think about the world we live in now. You can’t even have a moment of pure, raw horror without a screen being involved. We are always being watched. Usually, it’s some guy in a basement or a giant company trying to sell you shoes you don't need. This time, it’s the son of the President of the United States. It’s like a weird dream where all your nightmares collide into one big mess. It’s high-tech, it’s cold, and it’s deeply, deeply depressing.

The guy in London denies he was mad. He says he wasn't jealous. He says he wasn't upset that his date was talking to a Trump. Sure, buddy. We’ve all been there, right? You’re hanging out, and suddenly your friend is FaceTiming a global celebrity’s kid. No big deal. You just go about your day. You don't get angry at all. If you believe that, I have some magic beans I’d like to sell you. This is what we call a lie in the real world. In court, they just call it a 'defense.'

Let’s look at the players here. On one side, you have the accused. Just another person doing something awful. On the other side, you have the victim, who had to go through something no one should ever face. And in the middle, you have the digital ghost of a famous teenager watching it happen from across the ocean. It’s the ultimate story for the year we’re in. It’s messy. It’s voyeuristic. And it’s a sign that nothing is private anymore.

The Right will turn Barron into a hero in a shiny suit. They’ll say he’s a savior. They’ll use this to show how great the family is and why they should run everything. The Left will probably find a way to be mad about it. They’ll talk about privacy or why a Trump was on the call in the first place. They’ll both miss the point entirely. They always do. They are too busy fighting over the crumbs to see the whole cake is rotten.

The point is that we are all living in a giant fishbowl. And the glass is starting to crack. Why are we like this? Why is this news? It’s news because we love a train wreck. We love seeing the powerful mixed up with the pathetic. We love the idea that even in our darkest moments, there’s a camera nearby. It’s a sickness. We’ve replaced real life with a series of digital images. Even justice is now a matter of who was on the other end of a FaceTime call. It’s not about truth anymore; it’s about who was watching.

The man in court wants us to think he’s just a normal guy. He wants us to think he’s innocent and calm. But the story itself is so strange that the word 'normal' doesn't even mean anything now. We are talking about a crime witnessed through a tiny lens from thousands of miles away. It sounds like a bad movie, but it’s just Tuesday. This is the reality we built for ourselves. We traded our dignity for data plans.

I hate that I have to care about this. I hate that you’re reading this. But this is what we have left. No more big ideas. No more great leaders. Just a kid on a phone and a guy in a suit lying through his teeth in a London court. It’s the death of dignity. It’s the end of the world as we knew it. Frankly, I’m glad it’s over. The world was too loud anyway.

The legal system will keep spinning its wheels. The lawyers will send their bills. The man will either go to jail or walk free and do more weird stuff. But the smell of this story will stay around for a long time. It’s the smell of a world where nothing is private and everything is a show. Even a crime. Especially a crime. We’re all just spectators now. Barron was just the one who happened to be holding the phone this time. Tomorrow, it’ll be someone else. And we’ll all sit here, bored and annoyed, waiting for the next disaster to pop up on our screens so we can feel something for five seconds.