Trubu, the Genius of the Carpathians, Ada Doom — call him what you will (these are what we call him on this blog) — moves another step toward his obvious end: The limited nuclear explosion of Mar-A-Lago. As sure as Absalom‘s Clytie burns down her house full of devils and dolts, Trump hoards the codes in preparation for the nihilism to end all nihilisms.
He himself, like Faulkner’s Jim Bond, will flee the estate while family members and Trumpians burn within. He will head for Ted Kaczynski’s Montana hideaway, where, after some remodeling, he will settle in for his legacy years.