Speculation ran rampant regarding the Orange Durak’s (as he is known to Russians) especially disturbing performance in Paris last weekend. Now, thanks to my Russian background, I feel obligated to offer an explanation that should fill in the missing pieces to the puzzle.

The Orange Debile (as he is referred to by the French) joined other luminaries to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day, November 11, 2018. At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, a cease fire signaled an end to the War to End All Wars.

Europeans suffered unfathomable losses, and memories lingered, as they should. People throughout Europe honoured this day and hour with a moment of silence. The centennial brought leaders from all over the world to gather in solidarity to mark the occasion in Paris, including the U.S., also a participant in this first terrible war of the 20th century. No one who lived through it could have anticipated the tragic irony in the name change from the War to End All Wars to World War One.

The Americans entered World War One after staying neutral for the first two years. Now, to be generous, the Orange Dumkopf’s (his German nom-de-plume) failure to attend many of the commemorative ceremonies could be seen as a symbolic gesture. Could it be that the Orange Dotard (his alias gaining mileage across the U.S.) didn’t go the cemetery with the others because America’s losses were on such a small scale compared to European casualties that it might have been a tad churlish to take part in their mourning.

Arriving two hours late for the dinner may have symbolized entering the war after two years of neutrality. As for not attending the inaugural of the Paris Peace Forum—even though everyone who was anyone was there, from BFFs Macron and Merkel to Best Dictators Forever Putin and Erdogan…well, perhaps it was just modesty. Or maybe the Orange—oh, let’s just call him the OD— took offense at the cold shoulder he received from Macron earlier (or more likely it was the snub from Madame Macron, who finds the guy so repulsive she has a really hard time hiding it). But assuming the man has delicate sensibilities au fond, perhaps he simply and politely took a backseat in what was primarily a European tragedy. Fox News, you are welcome to take this interpretation and run with it.

Less friendly OD watchers suggested that he didn’t want his updo to get wet in the rain. Still others hinted that he was sulking, somehow assuming he’d be the center of the festivities (a big parade, a wienie roast etc., etc.). Hmmm, that sounds closer to the truth, but the fact that he also did not visit Arlington National Cemetery in honour of American veterans of soooo many wars suggests there’s more going on.

It’s time to throw out a few observations that may have some bearing on the REAL reason the OD was hiding out abroad and remains in hiding back on his home turf.

The Russians have been working on life-extension treatments for a long time. Their efforts have been enormously successful, yet almost nothing is heard about them. Little wonder, since scientists work on these top-secret programs in an iron cloak of silence, under penalty of death.

International oligarchs and certain politicians are on the receiving end of treatments that extend their lives. (I don’t need to elaborate, you can immediately think of several politicians who have long passed their sell-by dates.)

Yes, the OD owes the Russians more than a lot of money, and they in turn have truckloads of blackmail material on him. Yet, he’s always been a crisis survivor and indeed appears to thrive on crisis. All on a steady diet of MacDonald’s burgers and soda pop. So what’s behind his sudden cowering now? Perhaps this timeline can shed light on the OD’s uncharacteristic behaviour:

OD was not seated next to Putin at what was supposed to be a working lunch. Indication number-one that his erst-while pal is avoiding him.

He cancels his trip to the cemetery because he has more important things to do, namely, arrange for the longevity team to come to his hotel room to administer his usual fix. “I’ll be here all day,” one can hear him say.

He waits in vain for them to show up. They don’t, and he finally leaves for the scheduled dinner, two hours late and feeling under the weather. He scrutinizes the room; unable to locate his chum, he leaves early.

Standing on the platform with the other world leaders he looks grim until he catches sight of his good buddy Vlad. At last! He smiles broadly when pal Putin gives him the thumb’s up. While those not in the know marveled to see the OD with a genuine smile plastered on his face, anyone with a drop of Russian blood in the audience knew what the OD didn’t know—the thumb’s up was the Russian mafia’s kiss of death. It was an amusing moment. We chuckled and felt a moment of national pride as we saw our fearless leader play him like the proverbial cat with a mouse. “I’m going to get my fix?” “Sure you are.” Thumbs up. Smiles all around.

Finally, the day of Macron’s Forum where everyone went to be seen rooting for Peace, the Orange Dunce wasn’t. There, that is. He was on his way home.

Next day, there was no visit to the Arlington National Cemetery, and there was lid on the White House.

Here’s my take—now that the OD has outlived his usefulness and has to manage without his longevity juice, his decades of intemperate living will bite him in the butt. Think the portrait of Dorian Grey times ten. The difference being that Dorian started out beautiful, whereas the OD was always hideous. Now he grows uglier by the minute, and as his cells heat up, he is literally toast. What’s that great old Amerikanskii saying? “Burn, baby, burn.”