My name is Kalashnikov, it is true. The President is a lover of honesty, and of facts, and of reality, and so he has hired me to be his personal detective. That is why I carry this notebook of mine wherever I go. I am forever conducting investigations on behalf of the President. I am forever sorting out the truth on behalf of the President. Which is to say the facts. Which is to say the reality. Yes, I am in the business of reality, the real, the thing in and of itself. The President is a lover of the thing itself, the thing in and of itself. And I am at his service.

How near I come, every time, to saying “the President-elect.” But he is not the President-elect. Or, rather, he is of course the President-elect, of course, or he would not have been elected. And if he were not elected, it would be impossible to say of him that he is the President. He was elected, from which it follows he was the President-elect. And he remains the President-elect in the dual sense that a) he was indeed elected and b) he was elected President. It is not that he ceased to be the President-elect, but that this state of being elected was subsumed into the higher state, the fait accompli, the consummatum est, of President. The election, the elected, and, then, the thing-in-and-of-itself (the President). So I must catch myself each time, to be certain I have given the reality its proper name.

When I say that the President’s inaugural crowd was the biggest crowd of all crowds, I am merely saying that the President’s love of reality exceeds the love of reality that you will find in your travels among ordinary men. Yes—as a matter of course, he has an extraordinary love of reality, a tremendous love. And, as his love exceeds, so too must the reality. For it makes no rational sense to squander one’s greater love upon a lesser object. This is a straightforward matter of logic, of the principle of adequacy, as per Spinoza. If the President feels a tremendous swell of love, then the object of that love must be tremendous. If it is not so, the very possibility of truth, of adequacy, becomes impossible.

What does one mean by “the biggest crowd” if not “the crowd one feels to be the biggest”? Yes, there is a feeling of bigness that lifts the soul, like a wind. It is not simply a matter of numbers, but of nobility and feeling. The biggest crowd is the crowd that makes one feel the biggest, whether that crowd subsists in actual numbers of actual persons actually assembled collectively into an actual crowd-like configuration, or, by way of contrast, persons of tremendous figurative bigness assembled, not as it were in situ, but by other means such as broadcast transmissions. Consider, for example, the tremendous assembly of persons constituted by the nations’ offices of dentistry, hotel lobbies, Chinese take-out restaurants, laundromats, automotive repair shops, mall food courts, barber shops, billiards rooms, taverns, and cafeterias.

To focus on the material-realist conception of “a crowd” is to miss the spirit of crowd-ness. Any fool can count the heads in a photograph, but it takes greatness to comprehend the greatness of spirit. Because the President is Making America Great Again, it follows that his is a work of Greatness. Because it is a work of Greatness, it follows that the President, the fons et origo of this work of Greatness, is Great. How could it be otherwise but that a Great President have the Greatest of crowds, the Best crowds? It is through this lens only that the reality may be comprehended, not through the vulgar lens of the photojournalist or videographer. Greatness attends greatness. There is correspondence. Disregard what I said earlier of Spinoza: I did not mean Spinoza. Disregard what I said of adequacy: what I meant to say was correspondence.

I have written it all, here in my book. I have many notes, many words. The words say that the crowds were the biggest and the best, and who can argue with such copious words? If it were required, such as by the President, I could produce an endless cascading of words on the subject. Not an actual endless cascading, for the moment would doubtless arrive when the words were stilled, when there were no more words, when words were exhausted for once and for all time. A horrible thought! But a spirit of endless cascading words—that is what I have in mind. In spirit, the words are endless. And they speak only of the Greatness of the President-elect’s crowds. JESUS!. How I try to catch myself, to no avail. To no avail.

I have written it all in my book. What you fail to grasp, but what you will grasp, and what I am helping you to grasp, on behalf of the President, is the nature of truth, of reality, of reality in and of itself, unmolested by the media. The reality of greatness, and the greatness of reality. It will take some time, but we have time. We will be patient. We will work with you. We will Make America Great Again.