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Politicians do it to show off something they share. Sometimes the sparks fly over shared ideological values. “Dear Ronny” Reagan and his “Dear Margaret” Thatcher danced together to the tune of small government, tight money supply, and a couple of songs played at White House balls.

Things really seem to heat up when two people discover they share a certain disposition toward power, though. It was inevitable that Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump would declare their love for each other’s bombast with what else but bombast. Maybe, over candlelit dinners in the Kremlin, they’ll bond over their love of themselves and hatred of women, journalists and other stupid weaklings.

Occasionally, the enemy of a politician’s enemy becomes his special friend. No one thought Tony Blair would find a better match than Bill Clinton. Then George W. Bush came along, then 9/11 terrorists, and after a couple of years it was all let’s-invade-another-country-together this, and let’s-have-sleepovers-and-long-drives-in-the-pickup-truck-at-Crawford-ranch-together that.

Poland and Hungary’s leaders barely said hello until they found common nemeses in Brussels, refugees and liberal democracy; now they bond over sour soup.

These are the couples who get together because they like the same band, the ones whose conversations are choruses of “Same!” and “Me too!” The partners affirms their own existence by doubling down on themselves; advertising their values, their characters, their hatreds, their memories, through the simple fact that someone similar wants to be with them.