While writing this, I went back to look at that 2016 photo of Trump eating a taco bowl and loving “Hispanics,” and I was struck by how happy—genuinely, even almost appealingly happy, even to me—he seemed back then, in his tower with his trash and trophies. Especially compared to how he seems now: a seething, addled minotaur at the center of a labyrinth he made and despises. We are trapped in there with him, and we are all trying to find our way out. We will.
