The OAFPOTUS met with Russian dictator Vladimir Putin in Anchorage, Alaska, yesterday. I can't overstate that Putin won on so many levels, from getting the OAFPOTUS to agree to meeting on US soil in the first place to getting the OAFPOTUS to stomp on a rake on international television right at the end of it.
Let's start with the location. The International Criminal Court has issued an arrest warrant for Putin that most ICC signatories have said they will honor. We're not signatories, in part because President GW Bush was afraid of getting arrested overseas for the Iraq debacle. So the US is one of only a handful of countries Putin can even visit.
Next, though the OAFPOTUS probably doesn't remember this if he even learned it in the first place, Russia sold Alaska to the US in 1867 for $7 million (about $150 million today). Putin has made lots of noise about restoring Russian "greatness," making photos of him standing on the ground in Alaska a tremendous win for his domestic agenda. We gave this thing of great value to him for nothing. Nothing.
As even Ted Baxter could have predicted, the summit ended with no deal.
Then came the news conference, at which Putin said with a shit-eating grin while the OAFPOTUS wiped the shit off of his chin, "Next time, in Moscow." In fucking ENGLISH, just to twist the knife a bit more.
Oh, just FUCK YOU VERY MUCH, Vlad. I don't have the mental energy to explain all the ways that was possibly the most insulting, most trolling, least serious way he could possibly have ended the conference. And all of our allies and adversaries understood him perfectly.
Did the OAFPOTUS respond with at least the diplomatic awareness of the lunch lady at Foggy Bottom by saying something like, "Thank you for the thought, Mr President, but we have a lot of work to do before we can begin to consider such a step"? Of course not. No, the lunch lady at Foggy Bottom desperately wished she could wrap a diaper around his incontinent mouth, because the OAFPOTUS instead said, "Ooh, that's an interesting one. Uhh, I'll get a little heat for that happening, but I could see it possibly happening."
Somebody, please, invoke the 25th already. And Donald, please zip up your fly; no one needs to see that.
So, yesterday we got less than nothing. Ukraine got nothing (which, ironically, was better than they feared). Putin got everything he wanted and more. He played the OAFPOTUS like Stevie Ray Vaughn played a '63 Stratocaster. It was like watching your asshole uncle Dwayne go hard-core in Sorry! against a toddler. (At least the toddler would have the sense to cry and throw the board at him.)
I know I promised to concentrate on calling out the guy's corruption and not the myriad other ways he doesn't have the fitness of mind or morals to serve as a Chicago alderman, let alone President of the United States. But holy shit, this was one of the most embarrassing US diplomatic own-goals of the past hundred years.
Brendan McGann cannot come to the White House, and Vladimir Putin cannot come to the United States. This isn't hard.
Update: It gets better. State Department officials appear to have left behind classified documents that "shared precise locations and meeting times of the summit and phone numbers of U.S. government employees" on a fucking public printer. Putin was already laughing so hard on the flight home that they heard him in Japan, and we just gave him a lagniappe.