Olivia Nuzzi, writing for New York Magazine, has the story about Trump’s second arraignment. It is a giant spectacle.

On the eve of his 77th birthday, the former president and current 2024 GOP front-runner arrived at the Wilkie D. Ferguson Jr. Courthouse as a criminal defendant facing 37 federal charges for mishandling classified materials cribbed from the White House and stashed haphazardly in odd corners of his Palm Beach estate and for the alleged obstruction of the investigation into the matter.

Special counsel Jack Smith’s 44-page indictment detailing the government’s case against Trump and an aide, Walt Nauta, was made public earlier in June, weeks after Trump was first indicted and arraigned in New York on separate charges related to hush-money payments made by his campaign during the 2016 election.

In photos included as evidence, boxes and boxes of documents are stored in the basement, on the ballroom stage, and, most memeably, in a bathroom at Mar-a-Lago. Another shows a box overturned, its highly sensitive contents spilled onto the floor.

The materials “included information regarding defense and weapons capabilities of both the United States and foreign countries; United States nuclear programs; potential vulnerabilities of the United States and its allies to military attack; and plans for possible retaliation in response to a foreign attack,” according to the indictment. The irony was rich and obvious. This from the “law and order” president, the guy who wanted to “Lock her up!” over emails. The federal charges, including that Trump’s actions violated the Espionage Act, carry with them the threat of serious jail time, which Jonathan Turley, a conservative legal scholar, called “a terminal sentence.”

In the courthouse on Tuesday, Trump’s lawyer told the judge, “Your honor, we most certainly enter a plea of not guilty.” Throughout the proceeding, Trump sat stoically, his arms crossed, as Smith stared him down.

What a circus.