Do we really think there is method to his madness? That there is something behind the truculence except more truculence?
The art of the deal for Mr. Trump is merely breaking them. That mutual promises are one sided. That pacts are for the other guy. That the United States does not have to honor their commitments because, well we're the United States.
For those who felt this country had grown old and fat and needed a good shaking to wake from its stupor, welcome to what you have birthed. An unstable neurotic, with skin as thin as a roll of see through toilet paper, a temper as deep as an ocean swelled by melting icebergs and a belief that no pledge of this country can't be undone with a swipe of a pen (if he doesn't forget to sign) or a tweet from the little birdie fluttering in his vacant and vacuous head.
Today it is our long fought seven nation understanding to slow the prospect of a nuclear Iran that is teetering on a precipice. Tomorrow it is whatever else he can blow up because he wants to.
Broken promises: Mr. Trump's life long calling card. Now it has become ours.
The art of the undeal.
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