When you hear the word “pool” in these sun-baked days of summer, you might think of taking a cheeky dip in the water to cool off the skin that is conspicuously peeling off your haggard body. Everyone (except me) loves a pool. Donald Trump really loves a pool, but not the kind you can swim in. Or stand too close to. Or enjoy at all, really.

The state of the Lincoln Memorial reflecting pool rehabilitation effort has become the primary crisis affecting the United States. That is, if you ask the current administration. Limiting the right to vote is running a close second in the World Cup of Political Football, but it’s the reflecting pool that is attracting the most fervent attention. As emergencies go, it’s as thrilling as watching a really large body of still water in the middle of a park. The paint is peeling and it’s full of green algae.

While the inability to keep the pool from looking like a stagnant lake in the Ozarks carries some pretty serious environmental omens about the perilousness of our global water supply, the site itself is not exactly a massive national emergency. I’m more concerned with my Apple Watch beeping about my heart rate after a third martini than I am an artificial lake that … shows you a reversed version of the thing you’re standing in front of. Yup, there it is. That building. Again. But upside down. Brilliant.

The reflecting pool is just another pointless infrastructure project in a long line of pointless infrastructure projects that have come to define the blockbuster sequel to Trump 1.0. The White House ballroom, the Kennedy Center, the comically large arch designed to give Europe serious concrete envy. The politics pages of the news are starting to look more like Architectural Digest, which, quite frankly, is more fun to read usually. Except: every single one of these projects seems doomed to failure. The projects barely limp along as more than the governmental equivalent of a grandpa’s bucket list. Trump’s name is off the Kennedy Center. The ballroom is mired in litigation and political wrangling. The reflecting pool is a mess. It’s a parade of no-bid contracts, outlandish promises and unchecked vanity. Naturally, all these problems have to be someone else’s fault.

According to Trump, the reason the reflecting pool looks like a runny plate of mushy peas full of dead ducks is because vandals cut into the hard surface at the bottom of the pool under cover of darkness. Several people were said to have been arrested for the alleged act, though the details are thin. .

I don’t know if it “reflects” (sorry, I had to) well on the work of Atlantic Industrial Coatings if you can cut large gashes into the pool with some kind of small tool. Or maybe it was actually something more substantial, like a machete or the sword from Final Fantasy VII. I’m sure a pack of people wandering a national monument with massive blades in the middle of the night would avoid detection. Stealth is, of course, one of the primary attributes of the leftist agenda. It should also be said that Trump alleged the vandals dumped fertilizer into the pool, so add that to the midnight packing list. Might as well hire a 20-mule team to lug all that gear.

In response to the ongoing threat of possibly imaginary liberal ninja warriors carrying bags of manure, the government has erected a fence around the pool to keep out agitators, though the administration states that fencing was always meant to go up prior to Fourth of July festivities. It’s just apparently going up sooner to keep the pool secure. Nothing screams “beautification project” quite like a big fence. The Louvre should put up some chain-link around their artworks while we’re at it.

National monuments and historical landmarks are usually created for the sake of the public’s enjoyment. I might not personally see much use in staring at my own reflection, but I can see the appeal for some. Specifically Trump, who probably can’t help but take a gander at his own face staring back at him. It might be a dream he’s had more than once. There I am. Look at me. I’m so me, it’s outrageous how very me I can be. Perhaps we should just replace the pool with a large bit of mirrored glass. Pretty much the same thing, but with less bacteria fermenting. Just don’t stand too close to it at midday.

Sometimes, it feels like America is a Star Trek-style mirror universe where everything is backwards, nothing quite looks correct and everyone is sporting a goatee (metaphorically speaking). I think I’ve gotten to the point where everything not making sense has come around to making total sense. The paradox of delaying an affordable housing bill to prioritize a restrictive voting bill no one wants. The aching metaphors of the stagnant, murky pool meant to memorialize democratic progress. Is this a perverted alternate dimension reflecting back at us or just another day in soul-crushing reality?

• Dave Schilling is a Los Angeles-based writer and humorist