Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Donald Trump has always had a type. Some people like tall partners, some like funny ones, and Trump—well, Trump likes strongmen. Give him a uniform, a shiny sash, and the faint whiff of human-rights violations, and he swoons like a teenager at a boy-band concert. So it should surprise absolutely no one that he’s suddenly found himself with a full-blown geopolitical crush on Venezuela.

In the latest chapter of “Donald Does Diplomacy (Poorly),” Trump has apparently decided to unilaterally declare Venezuelan airspace a no-fly zone, despite the tiny logistical hiccup that he is not—nor has he ever been—the president of Venezuela. But since when has the lack of jurisdiction stopped him? If anything, it probably adds to the thrill. Forbidden fruit and all that.

And while the U.S. Navy deals with sketchy boats off Venezuela’s coast—because, yes, drug trafficking is a real thing—Trump’s over here fantasizing that he’s the sheriff of the Caribbean, slapping “NO FLYING IN MY SKY” signs on countries he doesn’t govern, like a Homeowners Association president gone rogue.

The big question, of course, is: why Venezuela? Why not fixate on literally any of the other countries he misunderstands?

Let’s explore some theories:

Theory 1: Oil, Glorious Oil

Trump loves oil the way toddlers love glitter—obsessively, carelessly, and without regard for the cleanup. Venezuela has a lot of it. Trump likes having things. Two plus two equals “I hereby annex this nation for totally legitimate freedom-spreading reasons.”

Theory 2: Dictator Solidarity

There’s also the Maduro factor. Trump has a documented soft spot for leaders whose idea of governance involves repression, state media, and long speeches praising themselves—so basically guys who remind him of himself, but with better military uniforms.

Maybe he sees Maduro as a kindred spirit. Maybe he thinks they could share fashion tips. Maybe he’s hoping for a dictator buddy-comedy deal on Netflix. Who knows?

Theory 3: He Just Wants to Declare Something

A no-fly zone. A war. A national emergency. A new flavor of Diet Coke. Trump is happiest when he’s declaring things. The content doesn’t matter. The point is the performance.

Declaring a no-fly zone over Venezuela gives him that nice warm authoritarian glow—like a weighted blanket, but full of constitutional violations.

Theory 4: The World’s Pettiest Real-Estate Deal

Trump has never met land he didn’t immediately imagine himself owning. Maybe he’s eyeing Venezuela the way a cartoon villain eyes a mountain shaped like a skull.

“He’s gonna put his name on the oil fields!” you can practically hear someone cry.

Yes. Yes, he probably would.

In the end, Trump’s Venezuela fixation isn’t about foreign policy or national security or even logic—God forbid. It’s about fantasy. The fantasy that he can bark orders at any country on Earth. The fantasy that he can crown himself Emperor of the Western Hemisphere. The fantasy that he can collect dictatorships like Pokémon.

And really, what’s more Trumpian than that?

If nothing else, it’s comforting to remember: the man can declare all the no-fly zones he wants. Venezuela will continue flying, and Trump will continue stamping his foot on a globe that doesn’t listen to him—just like everyone else.