Trump Tower sits between Gucci and Tiffany on Fifth Avenue in New York City. It looks like infant Lego, the Duplo brand, but black — porn Duplo, then. It is militarised; by the door are the fattest police officers I have ever seen. They look like they have been dragged out of Overeaters Anonymous and given automatic weapons; and I wonder how much the NYPD really want to keep him alive.
He is in the penthouse. The obvious comparison is with Al Pacino’s penthouse in The Devil’s Advocate, in which Pacino played a devil in a penthouse in New York City, but Trump Tower is less subtle than that, and I cannot decide whether it is more or less sinister. It is certainly luxe for the masses, but since it is neither luxe nor for the masses it inhabits a sort of dreamlike netherworld, which I suppose is Trump’s head.
The media are in a pen in the lobby, waiting for real or fake news.
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