There is a specific kind of madness that only occurs at high altitudes, where the oxygen is thin and the self-importance is dense enough to bend light. We are witnessing this phenomenon in real-time at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland—a gathering where the world’s arsonists meet annually to discuss the rising cost of fire extinguishers. Into this vacuum of self-awareness steps President Donald Trump, a man whose relationship with humility is roughly the same as a shark’s relationship with veganism. The headline? Trump has announced that his newly minted “Board of Peace” could be “one of the most consequential bodies ever created.”

Let that phrase marinate in the sour brine of reality for a moment. “Most consequential bodies ever created.” Not the Constitutional Convention. Not the Council of Nicaea. Not even the lineup of the 1992 Dream Team. No, the claim to historical immortality is being staked by a committee formed in a Swiss ski resort, chaired by a man who views diplomacy as a series of real estate transactions where the winner gets to put their name in gold letters on the loser’s forehead.

I am Buck Valor, and frankly, I am exhausted by the symmetry of this stupidity. To the casual observer, this looks like just another Tuesday in the post-satire era. But look closer, and you see the beautiful, jagged irony tearing through the political spectrum. On one side, we have the MAGA faithful, the populists who have spent nearly a decade screaming about the “globalist cabal” and the evils of the World Economic Forum. Their champion, their anti-establishment battering ram, is now sitting at the head of the table in the very heart of the Globalist Death Star, declaring himself honored to serve as chairman of their new bureaucratic toy. If cognitive dissonance were a renewable energy source, the confusion of the American Right could power the Eastern Seaboard for a century.

On the other side, we have the Neoliberal Left and the Davos elite—the people who have spent years clutching their pearls and comparing Trump to every historical villain from Nero to Voldemort. And yet, there they are, nodding along as he christens this “Board of Peace.” Why? Because deep down, the technocratic elite loves nothing more than a Board. They fetishize the concept of the “body.” To them, there is no war that cannot be solved by a subcommittee, no genocide that cannot be mitigated by a quarterly review, and no famine that cannot be addressed by a keynote speech followed by a cocktail hour. They hate the man, but they love the structure. They are willing to overlook the messenger because the message is wrapped in the comfortable, sterile language of corporate governance.

The “Board of Peace.” It sounds like a dystopian ministry from a discarded George Orwell draft, rejected for being too on-the-nose. The very idea that peace is something to be managed by a board of directors implies that global stability is a product to be shipped, a metric to be optimized, or a brand to be leveraged. It reduces the bloody, chaotic, heartbreaking reality of human conflict to an agenda item sandwiched between “Q3 Projections” and “cafeteria budget approval.” It is the ultimate triumph of the managerial class over the human condition.

And let us parse the word “consequential.” When Trump uses this word, he does not mean it in the historical sense of effecting change; he means it in the aesthetic sense of generating attention. To the narcissist, consequence is measured in decibels and camera shutters. A quiet treaty that saves lives is boring; a “Board of Peace” with him at the helm is “consequential” because he is there. It is a tautology of ego. The body is consequential because he chairs it; he chairs it because it is consequential. It is a snake eating its own tail, but the snake is wearing a red tie and the tail is made of gold leaf.

We are stuck in a loop. The Right thinks this is 4D chess; the Left thinks it is the end of days; and the Davos crowd thinks it is a networking opportunity. They are all wrong. It is simply the final stage of political entropy. We have reached the point where words have lost all traction. We can create a “Board of Peace” while the world burns, and we can call it “consequential” while achieving absolutely nothing. It is performative nihilism masquerading as high statesmanship.

So, raise a glass of overpriced champagne to the Board of Peace. I am sure their minutes will be fascinating reading for the historians of the future, assuming we survive long enough to have any. But don’t expect them to actually do anything. The only thing this board will successfully manufacture is headlines, and in the current economy of attention, that is the only currency that matters to the people in that room.