The shadow president paced around the stage after his speech, sunglasses on, mouth frozen in a grin, raising a chainsaw overhead to the delight of an adoring crowd as a large rectangular canvas made its way from the back of the audience toward him. He grabbed the painting, visibly thrilled. On the canvas, as onstage, he was the focal point. Beams of light emanated from his head, which the artist had superimposed over scenes from the world his real-world counterpart had promised to build: an…
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