Ladies and gentlemen, gin-swilling insomniacs and lovers of geopolitical farce, brace yourselves. The stars of our global theatre of the absurd have announced a reunion tour. Xi Jinping, China’s eternal helmsman with a smile as fixed as a wax museum mannequin, is gracing Pyongyang with his presence for a chinwag with Kim Jong Un, the world’s most hirsute meteorologist. UK intelligence, no doubt tapping its teacup and adjusting its monocle, is now assessing the impact on global stability. Because, of course, when the world’s premier party secretary and its most excitable missile-grower sit down for a spot of kimchi and kowtowing, what could possibly go wrong?
This is not a summit, dear readers. This is a masterclass in mutual egomania. Xi, the man who reportedly once said, ‘the party is the sun’ (and presumably meant it), will roll into Pyongyang clutching a comically oversized portrait of himself and a shopping list of demands. Kim, meanwhile, will greet him with a handshake so firm it could crack granite, a fresh haircut that screams ‘I definitely didn’t get this from my dad,’ and a newly tested missile that can deliver a bouquet of tulips to Guernsey. The agenda? Who knows? Probably a joint communiqué about the virtues of hereditary rule and the strategic importance of state-sponsored haircuts.
UK intelligence, bless their cotton socks, is now trying to figure out if this meeting means World War III is off the menu or merely delayed by a course of sweet and sour pork. ‘Global stability,’ they mutter, clutching hot beverages and spreadsheets. But let’s be honest: stability in this part of the world is like a Jenga tower made of political jelly. One sneeze from Kim and the whole lot wobbles. One photo op where Xi looks slightly uncomfortable, and the Bear of the East starts sharpening its claws.
But here at the Daily Detonator, we have a more pressing concern: the bar tab. Apparently, these two buffoons once spent three hours debating the relative merits of their respective launch vehicles. That’s a lot of time for canapés to go stale and for the gin to run dry. I only hope the Brits are factoring in the risk of a diplomatic incident caused by someone mistaking a hydrogen bomb for a bowl of soup. Because in this circus, that is exactly the sort of thing that happens.
So raise your glasses, you glorious cynics. The world is entering a new era of double acts. Here’s hoping they don’t decide to do a cover of ‘Ebony and Ivory’ on the last surviving piano in Pyongyang. God save the queue at the buffet. And pass the gin.
