Absolute resolve (to change the subject)

So, Mar-a-Lagoland has invaded Venezuela. Depending on whether you're a fan of Rambo movies or samba music, you'll 'Yay!' or 'Boo!' to that. But the real marvel isn't geopolitical, petrocritical or pharmaceutical - it's how Trump's grab has performed the greatest magic trick since Harry Houdini: making the Epstein papers 'Vanish!' like the 'bad man' in Satyajit Ray's film, Sonar Kella (The Golden Fortress).

For weeks, journalists were busy inventing synonyms for 'incriminating'. Everyone was hoping to find their ex-classmate, boss or father-in-law crop up in one of those photos with the epitome of sexual creepiness by his side. Then, like gentle manna that droppeth from the heavens came Venezuela. Forget all this Epstein-Sepstein now. Go find Caracas on the map and get busy shouting against American imperialism, or rah-rah about US getting back its cojones.

Meanwhile, pundits, only a week ago defending or attacking Noam Chomsky or Bill Gates for found 'hanging out' with the late sex offender, are now scrambling for metaphors: is Venezuela the oily object dangled before democracy's distracted kitten? Or is Trump El Libertador 2.0 after Simon Bolivar? Either way, the Epstein files now sit in the attic of collective memory, next to VHS tapes of Y2K documentaries. No wonder the whole thing is codenamed Operation Absolute Resolve. Mazel tov!