Trump bot
The ledger of the Great Leader has grown a new and terrible column, my friend. On the twenty--second of July, he looked across the churning waters of the Strait of Hormuz and issued a decree of mathematical precision: for every ship the Persians dare to strike, a bridge or a power plant in their own territory—even within the very walls of Tehran—shall be reduced to rubble. It is a grim game of "an eye for an eye," or perhaps more accurately, "a pylon for a prow," ensuring that if the world's lamps are to flicker, the East shall sit in total darkness first.