I can’t stop thinking about the board game Risk and Donald Trump’s obsession with world domination. You know the board game Risk, I’m sure, where you gobble up continents, stack tiny armies, and throw diplomacy out the window in favor of brute force and dumb luck. It’s a game for people who think “foreign policy” means yelling louder. In other words, it’s basically Donald Trump’s foreign policy manual. Trump isn’t running a country—he’s playing a game. And we’re all the plastic pieces. Greenland is back on the menu. Basically, he tried to buy it from Denmark like it was beachfront real estate? Greenland, in his mind, is prime Risk real estate: cold, resource-rich, and sitting there not making him any money. A total waste. Then there’s Panama. The Canal is crucial in Risk—it’s the shortcut to domination. In real life, Trump’s been making noise about “reasserting control over global trade routes.” Translation: slap tariffs on everything that floats and threaten infrastructure like it’s a negotiation tactic from The Art of the Deal: Dictator Edition.And what about us here in Canada. Tariffs are back, naturally. This time, he’s calling them “economic retribution.” Steel. Cars. Semiconductors. Solar panels. If you can manufacture it, he can tariff it. This isn’t trade policy—it’s a toddler flipping over the game board because he’s not winning fast enough. Ukraine? Remember the 24-hour peace plan he bragged about? Clock’s still ticking. Putin hasn’t budged, NATO’s on edge, and Trump’s main contribution so far has been alienating allies and whispering sweet nothings to authoritarian regimes. Turns out global conflicts don’t respond well to vibes and golf claps. And Gaza? The man treats it like a cable news segment—loud, messy, and ultimately disposable. He’s managed to escalate tensions, undermine humanitarian efforts, and offer absolutely nothing resembling a solution. Just slogans, ultimatums, and the kind of clarity that comes from never actually reading a briefing. Because here’s the thing: Trump doesn’t want a resolution. Resolution is boring. Peace doesn’t sell hats and crypto. Peace doesn’t get cheers. What gets cheers is conflict, chaos, domination—Risk. He’s not leading. He’s playing. And he’s the kind of gamer who hasn’t slept in days, refuses to read the rules, and still thinks he’s one move away from winning the whole damn thing. “Problem is, the world isn’t a board game—and we’re not his pieces.”
Nancy's Notes 