If you ever needed proof that the world is being run by a writers' room of bored, malicious sitcom creators, look no further than this week. We are watching a reality where the government is not only hunting people down in the streets of Minnesota but also taking the time to open a photo-editing app to make sure their victims look sufficiently sad. It would be funny if it weren’t so incredibly exhausting.

Let’s start in the American Midwest, shall we? Minnesota is currently attempting an "economic blackout." This is what it has come to. Labor unions and regular people have looked at the surge of immigration agents—essentially stormtroopers with paperwork—tearing apart their communities, and they have decided the only power they have left is to do nothing. No work. No school. No shopping. It is a desperate, quiet scream. They are trying to hit the system in the only place the system feels pain: the wallet. It is a noble, tragic gesture. It is the citizenry trying to remind the state that the machine does not run without the gears. But one has to wonder if the people in charge even notice the silence when they are so busy making noise.

And oh, the noise is deafening. While Minnesotans hide in their homes to avoid the deportation squads, the man in the High Castle is busy handling the truly important matters: uninviting Canada from his club. You cannot make this up. Donald Trump took to his social media app to write a rejection letter to Mark Carney, the Canadian prime minister. The letter reads like a breakup note written by a dramatic teenager. "Please let this Letter serve to represent that the Board of Peace is withdrawing its invitation to you," he wrote.

He calls it the "Board of Peace." Just say that out loud. It sounds like a toy you buy in the discount aisle. He claims it will be the "most prestigious Board of Leaders ever assembled." The narcissism is so pure, so unfiltered, that you almost have to admire the commitment to the bit. He isn't engaging in diplomacy; he is curating a VIP list for a party that no one actually wants to attend. Uninviting Canada—essentially the world’s polite neighbor who brings a casserole to everything—from a "peace" board is the kind of irony that usually requires a literature degree to appreciate.

But the absurdity gets darker. We have to talk about the pictures. The White House released an image of a woman arrested during a protest in St. Paul. But reality, apparently, was not dramatic enough for the administration’s propaganda team. A sophisticated analysis found the image was digitally altered. They made her skin darker. They added fake tears.

Let that sink in. The most powerful government on Earth felt the need to use Photoshop to make a protester look more miserable. Why? Because the truth wasn't cinematic enough? This is the behavior of a low-budget advertising firm, not a global superpower. It reveals a deep, pathetic insecurity. They need you to see "crying criminals," and if the camera doesn't catch it, they will draw it in with a mouse. It is the ultimate fake news, manufactured directly by the people who scream about fake news the loudest.

Meanwhile, up north, Greenland is trying to have a serious conversation about sovereignty. The U.S. claims they have a deal for full access to the island. Greenland’s prime minister says, "Wait, what deal?" It is like watching a developer measure the curtains in your house while you are still eating dinner. The U.S. treats entire countries like distressed real estate assets. The arrogance is breathtaking.

And somewhere in a quiet room, Jack Smith, the former special counsel, stood up to defend his attempt to hold power accountable. He told a committee that "no one should be above the law." It was a nice speech. It felt like a eulogy. He was talking about rules and laws in a week where the government is Photoshopping tears onto people and kicking Canada out of the peace club. It felt like a man reading the instruction manual for a board game that everyone else flipped over and set on fire months ago.

Then there is Venezuela. We found out that before the U.S. military snatched up President Maduro, his own inner circle—the people sworn to protect him—had secretly told the U.S. they were fine with it. It is Shakespearean treachery, minus the poetry. Everyone is looking out for themselves. Principles are just things you sell when the price is right.

So, here we are. The shops in Minnesota are closed because the people are scared. The White House is editing photos like an insecure influencer. Canada is uninvited from the peace party. The world stage has become a circus, but the clowns aren't trying to make us laugh. They are just trying to see how much we will tolerate before we stop buying tickets.