There is no Lake America.
There is a quantity of cold water, grey-green and faintly industrial, pressed between two very big countries that have never quite agreed on where one of them ends and the other begins.
A name was already there long before the Trumpian republic that now wants to overwrite it and the large fallacious degenerate sitting behind the resolute desk has discovered late in life that the cheapest form of conquest is to change the name of something that already had a name.
So he went and did it.
not occupied the shoreline, not dredged a canal, not even sent a gunboat to sit there looking significant, or at the very least, portentous.
The name Lake Ontario comes from the Native American Wendat word, Ontario, which means the lake is beautiful, the lake is big.
All of the other lakes flow into it, giving it their pollution.
Trump has renamed Lake Ontario, not daubed it, not leased its shoreline to some consortium of brand consultants, not even troubled himself with the ordinary threat of annexation.
Somewhere in the Department of the Interior, a civil servant is updating a database on a government laptop that still runs Windows 7, typing the new name with the hollow patience of a man who probably took this job to save the spotted owl and has instead been conscripted into the last Trumpian heresy.
The belief that if you say a thing often enough, God is obliged to rearrange the map.
There is no Lake America.
There is a quantity of cold water, grey-green and faintly industrial, pressed between two very big countries that have never quite agreed on where one of them ends and the other begins.
A name was already there long before the Trumpian republic that now wants to overwrite it and the large fallacious degenerate sitting behind the resolute desk has discovered late in life that the cheapest form of conquest is to change the name of something that already had a name.
So he went and did it.
not occupied the shoreline, not dredged a canal, not even sent a gunboat to sit there looking significant, or at the very least, portentous.
The name Lake Ontario comes from the Native American Wendat word, Ontario, which means the lake is beautiful, the lake is big.
All of the other lakes flow into it, giving it their pollution.
Trump has renamed Lake Ontario, not daubed it, not leased its shoreline to some consortium of brand consultants, not even troubled himself with the ordinary threat of annexation.
Somewhere in the Department of the Interior, a civil servant is updating a database on a government laptop that still runs Windows 7, typing the new name with the hollow patience of a man who probably took this job to save the spotted owl and has instead been conscripted into the last Trumpian heresy.
The belief that if you say a thing often enough, God is obliged to rearrange the map.
The rest of this transcript — segmented and speaker-labeled, so you land on the exact moment something was said
Search every transcript — by keyword, by phrase, or by meaning, across every show Radar indexes
Trends — what is surging across podcasts, measured against its own baseline
Alerts — when a name you follow appears in a newly indexed episode
No account is needed to search Radar.