I’m lucky if I can order from the menu, and that’s when I’m traveling in England, where I speak the language.
We will light candles, we will spin tops, we will eat potato pancakes, and we will consider eating chocolate coins as well, even though most brands of Chanukah chocolate taste like wax.
One of the saddest things about having Trump in the White House is how obvious he has made everything. There is nothing new to say.
In the middle of the Cold War, when Americans still had nightmares about the bomb, Russians exported actual warfare into the world, and the mass of mankind remained hungry and poor, the great philosopher Walt Kelley (who wrote about animals living in a swamp) warned us as clearly as he could.
But Trump makes people happy, too. Not his family and friends, of course. But complete strangers, who don’t know him, and don’t have to deal with his sociopathy except as it translates to entertainment.
I have a strange affection for Mike Pence. He is beyond false, but his falseness is so apparent that I immediately discount it and move on.
Original intent sounds great until you actually try it.
Our president, who is afraid of the democratic process, and who has been trying to undermine it however he can, told the citizens of North Carolina to vote twice, once by mail and once in person, ostensibly to check and see if North Carolina’s protections against that practice are effective.
People have been predicting the end of political conventions for decades now. We haven’t had a contested one in quite a while.
(And by the way, we are not allowed to criticize (Kamala Harris) for being “ambitious,” because that is against feminism. Not sure if we are allowed to distrust her for being a self-involved empty suit who has never advanced any cause other than her own — but probably not.)