"Furture generations will look back at Trump's latest wind turbine rant with awe and horror."
Itβs like your great uncle Arthur, who comes to your place every Christmas, and sits in your favourite armchair, ranting to the wall, while the rest of the amassed congregation get on the real party, engaging the occasional sideways glance, while the adolescents, giggling, wait for him to fall asleep, and then face paint a tiger in him.