My brilliant friend

IN JANUARY 1933, after months of rebuffs, the American poet Ezra Pound finally secured a meeting with Benito Mussolini, his idol, in Rome. Flicking through his admirer’s poems—and possibly distracted by the presence of a pretty young English teacher—Mussolini politely described them as divertente, or amusing. Pound chose to interpret this nicety as evidence of il Duce’s genius and appreciation of his own; his ruinous devotion to him intensified. In perhaps the weirdest subplot of America’s wild presidential election, an offhand comment by Vladimir Putin seems to have had a similar effect on Donald Trump.

This is a season of conspiracy theories. In certain corners of the internet it is an item of faith that Hillary Clinton enabled the attack on Benghazi, to cover up illicit arms sales to terrorists. Analysis of Mr Trump’s attitude to Mr Putin can veer into the thrilleresque too. Yet there is a pattern in his remarks that, as polling day nears, deserves scrutiny. Tracing it lays bare his slipshod policymaking, even if his motives remain opaque.