Here we go again. If you have been paying attention to the world lately, you might feel like you are watching a rerun of a very bad television show. The actors change slightly, but the script remains the same. The United States has decided to park its biggest, most expensive boats right next to Iran. Two whole carrier groups are sitting in the water, massed within striking distance. It is not exactly a subtle hint. It is like standing on your neighbor's front porch with a sledgehammer while politely asking to borrow a cup of sugar.

This is the state of our world. We are told that top negotiators are meeting in Geneva on Thursday. Ah, Geneva. It is a lovely city. It is clean, the chocolate is good, and it is where people in expensive suits go to pretend they can fix the world's problems. They are gathering for what the news calls "last-ditch talks." I always find that phrase funny in a sad way. "Last-ditch" means they have wasted all the time before this. It means they waited until the bomb was ticking before they decided to look for the wire cutters. It is the behavior of lazy students, only instead of a bad grade, the result is war.

The report says they are debating a "new proposal." This magical piece of paper is supposed to create an "off-ramp." That is bureaucratic language for finding a way to back down without looking weak. Everyone wants to look tough, but nobody actually wants to start the fire that burns the whole house down. So, they look for an off-ramp. They want to drive their car one hundred miles an hour toward the cliff, scream at the top of their lungs, and then turn away at the very last second so they can tell their voters how brave they were. It is a dangerous game. Sometimes, the brakes do not work. Sometimes, you miss the turn.

Then there is the threat itself. Donald Trump is considering a "targeted strike" against Iran. This phrase—"targeted strike"—is designed to make you feel safe. It sounds surgical. It sounds clean. It makes you think of a doctor performing an operation. But war is not surgery. War is messy. You drop a bomb on one thing, and three other things explode. People get angry. Retaliation happens. The idea that you can hit a sovereign nation just a little bit is a fantasy. It is like slapping someone in the face and expecting them to thank you for not using a fist.

But wait, there is more. The plan is a targeted strike, followed by a "larger attack" if things go wrong. It sounds like a menu option at a terrible restaurant. "I will have the small explosion, please, with a side of total devastation." It treats military force like a business negotiation. It is all about leverage. The United States is putting its aircraft carriers on the table like poker chips. They are betting that Iran will fold. But what if they don't? What if the other side decides to flip the table over? The people making these decisions in Washington and Tehran will be safe in their bunkers. It is the rest of us who have to deal with the noise and the smoke.

It is hard not to be cynical when you see the same patterns repeating. We have carrier groups flexing their muscles in the ocean. We have tired diplomats drinking coffee in Switzerland, trying to find words that will stop missiles. We have a "new proposal" that is probably just the old proposal with a different font. It is a theater of the absurd. They are performing a play for us. They want us to be scared, then relieved, then grateful.

The reality is simple and depressing. Two massive military forces are staring at each other. One side is threatening to hit the other to prove a point. The other side is digging in. And in the middle, a few people in Geneva are trying to build a bridge out of paper while the water rises. They call it diplomacy. I call it a lack of imagination. We deserve better leaders, or at least better writers for this endless, tragic drama. But for now, we just have to watch the ships gather and hope that for once, someone finds the brake pedal before we go over the cliff.