So the summit’s tomorrow.
And I have a dream.
Well, the Bible says old men will dream dreams and young men will see visions.
Anyway, back to my dream: At the end of tomorrow, Chubby and Orange Man both happy and beaming, standing proud and tall in front of a wall of microphones, will first thank the Singapore government for its help in hosting the summit – a praise that the ruling party will fully exploit as political capital in the mostest maximalist way and bask in it for the next couple of decades.
Then Chubby and Orange Man, still looking ultra-cheerful and still smiling from molar to molar, will announce to the eagerly-anticipating world, that both sides are totally committed to a nuclear-free Korean peninsula, the eventual withdrawal of US forces from the South, economic aid for the North, immediate family visits, the DMZ declared a tourist spot – complete with a museum (with exhibits showing how evil forces in the past have carved up Korean into two, and how the diabolical Nipponese started it all by invading in the first place) – and the ultimate reunification of the North and South in the very near future.
Orange Man invites Chubby to play golf with him at Mar-a-Lago, they then hug each other like long-lost brothers and arm-in-arm walk off in the sunset and into the famous swimming pool at Marina Bay Sands to confront history, with thoughts of the Nobel Peace Prize making them giddy. (Sorry lah, Mahathir, try harder.)
And why not?
After all, if my dream doesn’t turn into a nightmare, Orange Man would have achieved far more for world peace than (my other hero) Obama, who, lest we forget, was given said prize.
That would be proof indeed that orange is the new black.