Sandbox Flight Risk

Trump storms out of the G7, Zelenskyy walks into the rubble, and America’s military smiles at the wrong time

Good morning! Donald Trump arrived at the G7 summit in Canada eager to reclaim his throne among world leaders. Instead, he was treated like the schoolyard menace who still thinks he’s king of dodgeball, while the other kids quietly built alliances on the far side of the sandbox. French President Emmanuel Macron’s pre-summit visit to Greenland (remember when Trump tried to buy it?) was a diplomatic sub-tweet for the ages, and things only went downhill from there.

By Monday night, Trump had grabbed his flag pins and stormed out like a birthday boy denied his cake. Officially, the excuse was “what’s going on in the Middle East.” Unofficially, the emergency was that the other leaders didn’t clap when he landed. Yes, the Iran-Israel war is serious, no one’s denying that, but the G7 had already devoted most of the summit to it. And let’s be honest: with secure satellite uplinks, an entire Situation Room staff on standby, and the power of real-time global communication, Trump could’ve “managed” Iran from the back of a canoe if he needed to. But instead of doing the job of diplomacy, he played pretend peacemaker for the cameras: “I’ve spoken to everybody. Israel is doing very well.”

Translation: the parade flopped, the allies didn’t grovel, and the U.S. military had the gall to smile and wave instead of saluting like Rockettes in camo. According to Michael Wolff’s sources, Trump was livid that Pete Hegseth hadn’t enforced “a tone of reverence.” Apparently, in Trump’s America, soldiers exist to perform like animatronic extras in a dystopian Disney ride, no waving, no humanity, just goose-stepping in MAGA cadence.

What unfolded in Alberta wasn’t a summit, it was a crash course in how to alienate your allies in under 24 hours. Trump insulted Justin Trudeau (“very disloyal”), called Macron “pathetic” for suggesting a ceasefire, and referred to EU leaders as “lightweights.” At one point, he declared, “Only I can fix this,” before wandering off during a photo op to complain about the lighting.

He demanded Russia’s reinstatement to the G7, seemingly forgetting, again, that they were kicked out in 2014 for invading Crimea. “It’s ridiculous they’re not here,” he fumed. “We need Putin in the room. He only talks to me.” That wasn’t a metaphor. Trump told reporters Putin had personally assured him, off the record, of course, that he wouldn’t escalate in Ukraine as long as Trump was “back in charge.”

Even his imaginary victories got airtime. Trump announced a “huge new trade agreement with the EU,” only for it to emerge that he’d signed a memo of understanding with the UK. “Great meeting with the EU,” he posted. “They love me now.” They do not. The EU’s foreign policy chief issued a dry correction noting that the UK is “no longer a member of the European Union”, a detail apparently absent from Trump’s mental Rolodex.

Trump skedaddle from Alberta like he was being chased by a moose. No final communique, no handshake photos, no consensus, he blasted Tehran on Truth Social, mocked Macron, and advised Iranian civilians to evacuate their capital like he was hosting a fireworks show instead of escalating a war. It was less statesmanship than a Yelp review for a conflict he neither understands nor bothers to deescalate.

Meanwhile, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy was en route to Alberta just as Trump turned tail and fled. As Trump jetted off in a pout, Zelenskyy prepared to face the G7 not with bluster, but with the blood-soaked urgency of a man whose nation had just endured another mass missile strike. At least fifteen civilians were killed overnight in Kyiv, hospitals were hit, and entire neighborhoods plunged into darkness. Zelenskyy didn’t flee when things got hard, he showed up to ask for solidarity, weapons, and a spine. His plea landed just as Trump’s empty chair was being cleared from the conference table.

While world leaders huddled with Zelenskyy over hard questions of escalation, aid, and defense, Trump was already posting from Air Force One, advising Iranian civilians to evacuate their capital and declaring “Israel is doing very well,” as if war zones were Yelp-reviewed tour stops. Zelenskyy didn’t need a hashtag to remember who abandoned the sandbox first, he was too busy leading, alone.

Back home, the authoritarian dream ran into logistical snags. Trump’s deportation surge, marketed as a crackdown on “job thieves”, is now gutting the very industries it claimed to protect. ICE raids in Omaha, Tallahassee, and rural New York left farms, hotels, and meatpacking plants crippled. The arrest of 75 workers at Glenn Valley Foods by ICE agents dropped the plant to 15% capacity. In Florida, concrete hardened mid-pour after agents rounded up 100 workers at a student housing site.

The chaos exposed a split inside the administration. DHS tried to slow workplace raids to keep food on shelves. Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins warned that “severe disruptions to our food supply would harm Americans.” But Kristi Noem, Trump’s DHS bulldog, overruled the pause, declaring, “Failure is not an option,” and demanding ICE agents be graded on body count! Nobody said running a nativist police state would be convenient.

Meanwhile, in Austin, Elon Musk’s long-delayed robo-taxi revolution continues its slow-motion collapse. Tesla’s so-called self-driving cars still require remote operators, avoid intersections, and occasionally flatten child-sized mannequins. But Musk is too busy reposting AI-generated fan art of himself as a techno-messiah to worry about school bus safety. Grift never idles.

And neither does Trump. Enter: Trump Mobile, the president’s latest vaporware venture, a cell service with spotty coverage, no infrastructure, and a marketing strategy built entirely around hoovering donor data. It’s Truth Social 2.0, but with a monthly fee. Some insiders are calling it “Freedom Phone with a side of espionage.” That Trump couldn’t sell out his own parade but still expects millions to subscribe speaks volumes about the loyalty cult, and the monetization of grievance.

The Minnesota case? Vance Boelter, a far-right Trump supporter with a documented history of online extremism, now faces multiple charges including premeditated murder and impersonating a police officer. He’s accused of assassinating Democratic state Rep. Melissa Hortman and her husband, and attempting to kill another progressive lawmaker in what investigators describe as a politically motivated attack. Authorities say Boelter had a hit list targeting left-wing officials. Trump did offer a lukewarm rebuke of the Minnesota shootings, calling them ‘horrific’, but immediately pivoted to denouncing Gov. Tim Walz as ‘whacked out’ and refused to call him, saying it would be a ‘waste of time’. Meanwhile, he channeled his energy into ordering ICE to storm Democratic-run cities, and rage-posted about smiling soldiers during his parade, all while avoiding a real embrace of victims or Democratic officials.

Welcome to another week in the sandbox, where Trump takes his toys home, breaks the slide, and blames the other kids for not saluting.