In a move that has shocked absolutely no one who has paid even glancing attention to the last decade, former President Donald J. Trump has reportedly revived one of his most cherished, and profoundly baffling, geopolitical fantasies: the acquisition of Greenland.
Sources close to the ex-president, primarily consisting of a talking portrait he keeps in a gilded bathroom, confirm that Mr. Trump views the massive, ice-covered island not as a sovereign nation with 56,000 people, but as “a really great piece of real estate” that is, and we quote, “just sitting there.” His alleged strategy to obtain it? A “muscular negotiation” that experts believe translates to: trying to buy it, and when that fails, vaguely threatening to just take it.
The global response has been a symphony of restrained diplomatic horror and barely-concealed derision.
From Copenhagen, Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen, who previously labeled the idea “absurd,” was reportedly found gently banging her head against a historic Viking longship. “We offered him some Lego and a pastry,” a weary aide muttered. “He said it wasn’t ‘big league’ enough. He then asked if we could throw in Iceland as a ‘starter island.’”
In a groundbreaking display of unity, world leaders set aside their differences to collectively mock the concept. French President Emmanuel Macron was overheard asking an aide if “Corsica is for sale on Amazon, perhaps?” Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau simply tweeted a single, poignant emoji: 🥶. A spokesperson for the Kremlin, struggling to maintain their usual grim demeanor, called it “an interesting capitalist approach to territorial expansion. We, of course, prefer the older, simpler methods.”
Meanwhile, at a hastily convened “Very Stable Genius Summit” at Mar-a-Lago, Trump unveiled his tactical plan to a crowd of paying members and a confused raccoon. It was presented on a napkin, featuring a crudely drawn arrow labeled “OUR ARMY” pointing from a blob marked “USA” to a larger blob marked “BIG COLD LAND.” Strategic points included “Great minerals (probably),” “Stop the windmills from looking at us,” and “Big, beautiful walls against… snow.”
“The Danes are being very nasty about this,” Trump declared between bites of a well-done steak. “Very unfair. They have a socialistic country, and their Greenland is melting. I’d stop the melting. With class. My uncle was a professor at MIT, you know, very good with ice. The best ice. We’d have polar bears working. It’d be huge.”
Greenlanders themselves have responded with characteristic Nordic stoicism and a hint of sublime sarcasm. The mayor of Nuuk issued a statement saying, “We appreciate the interest. While we are not for sale, we would be happy to sell Mr. Trump a timeshare in a very nice icefjord. Utilities not included. Bring a coat.”
Political analysts are stunned, not by the proposal’s audacity, but by its staggering lack of novelty. “It’s like he’s reading from the greatest hits of unhinged 2019,” sighed Dr. Alistair Thorne of the Geopolitical Irony Institute. “He’s bypassing current global crises to return to the simple, pure dream of owning a frozen island because it looks big on a map. It’s almost poetic in its idiocy.”
As the international community continues to chuckle, eye-roll, and slowly back away, one thing is clear: the dream lives on. Somewhere, in a gold-plated room, a man is staring at a globe, his finger resting on a vast, cold expanse, dreaming of putting his name on it in very, very large letters.
Because if there’s one thing history teaches us, it’s that the greatest legacies are built not on peace, prosperity, or progress, but on the obsessive, unchecked desire to own land that is fundamentally useless to you. All hail the would-be Emperor of the Ice Sheet. His vision, as always, is crystal clear, and completely detached from reality.