Morning 👋🏻 On certain days, when social media feeds heat up to hysterical temperatures, Trump emerges from his skyscraper aquariums. He doesn't walk - he broadcasts. His appearance is accompanied by a characteristic smell - a mixture of hairspray, gold toilet seats, and freshly printed grandeur. At this moment, reality is temporarily declared fake. According to the doctrine of Trumpism, truth is whatever is said louder. Facts are considered optional, and logic is a hostile ideology. Trump's words have a unique property: the less sense they make, the higher their value. One tweet-eruption and the markets start to cross themselves, two and experts urgently change their tune live on air. Each of his statements automatically becomes an alternative reality. If he said he won, then he won. If he lost, then it was a conspiracy. If he didn't understand the question, then the question was unpatriotic. The golden aura of self-confidence is particularly valuable. It allows you to say everything at once without knowing anything. Conspiracy theories thrive in this aura, insults feel comfortable, and the cult of personality flourishes. The main purpose of this substance is to spray the electorate. After regular use, voters begin to see enemies everywhere, love simple answers, and believe that the billionaire sincerely understands their problems. The economy, meanwhile, behaves ungratefully and refuses to participate in the show. The numbers are stubborn, the budgets are boring, and reality, unfortunately, does not read tweets. But that doesn't matter. Because as long as the voice is heard, the truth can wait.