As I write this the Trump inauguration is still three days away, so the US intelligence community still has time to concoct something which, with the Guardian’s help, could rain on his parade. No doubt the liberal elite would love one more chance to subvert the democratic process, but as far as most real Americans are concerned any further questions about The Donald’s suitability for high office would have to be accompanied by footage of him buggering a bald eagle to get much attention. I’m confident that by the time you read this the gold-plating of the West Wing toilet seats will be well under way.

It might seem like tempting fate to describe a prospective US president as bullet-proof, but in The Donald’s case the more temperate ‘teflon-coated’ would be reckless understatement. If someone isn’t already writing a book entitled A Hundred Things Which Should Have Stopped Trump Getting to the White House they should be. Perhaps the hacks are daunted by the sheer volume of material. Leaving aside peccadillos like ‘harmless hyperbole’, hate speech and allegations of sexual harassment (which, after all, are hardly without presidential precedent thanks to his Democratic predecessors), his friending of one of Uncle Sam’s oldest foes would have been enough to scupper any normal candidate’s chances. One of the most intriguing aspects of the Trump/Putin bromance has been the former’s eagerness to acknowledge it. But if you buy into the theory that he never really wanted the job, but couldn’t resist the spotlight which candidacy bathed him in, then it’s not hard to entertain the idea that as the novelty of campaigning wore off, and the prospect of victory went from risible to real, he felt the urge to self-harm. That might explain why he also extended the tweet of friendship to Julian Assange, another enemy of the state, and insulted the parents of a US soldier killed in Iraq and, more recently, an aging Civil Rights hero. If Fidel Castro had hung on for a few more weeks perhaps Mr Trump would have flown down to Havana for a cigar-smoking selfie with the old bastard. That might at least have shaved off his 1.2 per cent winning margin in Florida.

The only friendships which would have been more damaging to his chances would have been with the leaders of North Korea and Iran. But perhaps The Donald has a more cunning plan up his sleeve for both of them – and one which will give critics who lampoon his grasp of foreign affairs cause to think again. It remains to be seen whether he will take the advice of analysts not to deliver on a promise to rip up the nuclear containment agreement Barack Obama negotiated with the Iranian president, and he has made several statements to the effect that countries like Saudi Arabia and South Korea should have access to nuclear weapons with which to threaten neighbours like North Korea and Israel. Both might sound like fast-tracks to Armageddon. But what will be so bad about the international isolationism which some foresee as inevitable effects of Trump protectionism after much of the world – and all of the Far and Middle East – has been reduced to a smoking, depopulated wasteland?

Hopefully Australia will escape the fallout. But since the closing date for last year’s Thawley Prize preceded the US election by a month I’ll be surprised if the winning entry, which must ‘imagine Australia in 10 years time’, will factor in the effects of what will surely be a two-term Trump presidency. I’d have taken my cue from another populist triumph of 2016. I see Brexit as the start not the end of something, and in 10 years time envisage the UK at the heart of a much bigger and more successful international federation. And the jewel in the crown of this new British Empire will be Queensland, which will have been granted independence after the Green Federal government realises that this is the only way Australia can hit the coal mine closure target it has committed us to. By then Queenslanders will have show their appreciation for the economic boom independence has given them by erecting a gigantic bronze Game of Thrones-style statue of their flame haired matriarch bestriding the entrance to the Brisbane River. Out of respect, crew and passengers on boats passing beneath will be asked not to look up.