One of the singular images of the Trump administration thus far is that of Press Secretary Sean Spicer, possibly so rattled from the task of being an attack dog in the president’s ongoing war with the media, seeking refuge either in or among shrubbery this week. It is a perfect metaphor for the psychic toll the warring versions of reality propagated by the Trump administration creates on us all, let alone him, the bearer of alternative facts to the people whose entire job is the acquisition of actual facts. In its own way, it feels like a tacit admission that all this shit is too much even for him.