Right-wing bad-boys. Bill O’Reilly. Roger Ailes. Donald Trump. Left-wing bad-boys. Teddy Kennedy. Jack Kennedy. Bill Clinton. Harvey Weinstein. Yeah. It all depends. Hypocrisy rules. Always. Follow the money.
And. Please. Can we finally dispense with all things Sylvia Plath?
Favorite passtime. Forking Around. Crush at the vineyards on the North Fork. Farmstands brimming with apples, mums and cider donuts. Autumnal colors in full bloom.
Paumanok Vineyards. Aquebogue.
Harbes Family Farm. Mattituck.
Then. Shelter Island ferries to the South Fork for a warm sunny beach week in Napeague & Montauk. Clam Bar & Gosman’s still bopping. Yes. It is October!
Golf Ball. President’s Cup. A yawn of vanilla look-alike Americans vs. unknown international team. Ex-Prez’s Billy, George, Barack together. Hey. It’s right across the river at Liberty National. NFL has taken a knee financially as controversy sorts itself while the real crime of physical injuries sidelined. These days it’d be good to be confined inside a nutshell.
As Hamlet lamented to Rosnecrantz and Gildenstern: “O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.”
Ian McEwan took this as his conceit for Nutshell, a novel. Our latest book group pick. Some of us liked it more than others. A fetus’ view from the womb. Premise a bit ludicrous. Some ludic moments. A long short story that seemed meant more to expound on the global issues of his time, McEwan’s pedantic take on Mother earth being poisoned, North Korea, Iran, race, religion. Unborn nugget sees what’s wrong in his own upcoming life and the world at large.
Texting has replaced talking. No need to leave your couch to have a romantic rendez-vous. Just insert a flirty photo. Clipped narratives allow people to engage with or ignore each other. A recent study has shown that fewer teens are dating. Why spend the money. Why waste time on low-paying summer jobs when tweeting meets all their needs. Face-to-face social interaction is becoming rare. What will be the effect. Increased isolation. Joining like-minded online safe spaces. Soon college will be too scary unless it’s done on the net.
And. btw. LOL is rarely that.
It’s Fall. Happened at 4:02 pm. Leaves starting to yellow a bit. Autumnal sounds reverberating through our windows. Must be Global Citizen Festival. Rehearsing for the annual event. Free and easy to head over to see and hear before the crowds pack the Park tomorrow. They don’t know the world is going to end. Sing on!
Meanwhile over at Madison Square Garden, Joey Three Sticks is catching Bruno Mars. Uptown funk you up. Uptown funk you up.
If we are all still here after Saturday, we can rejoice in the emergence of Mike Bloomberg’s Global Business Forum. The New York billionaire who should be President. Don’t blame me. I voted for him! Rational. Professional. Ethical. Brilliant. And. He really does have a macro economic vision. Unlike. Well. That other New York billionaire (ish).
Then. Find Conan O’Brien’s trip to Israel. On this Jewish New Year. An hilarious and heartbreaking synopsis of what a world at peace could be. Good people on both sides of the Wall. And beyond. Must see.
Earthquakes. Mexico. Check. Superstorms. Puerto Rico. Caribe. Florida. Check. World War 3. Iran. North Korea. Check. According to a Christian numerologist, this coming Saturday, September 23 the world will end. Biblical signs sure are lined up. Exoplanets newly discovered may go rogue. Nostradamus nothwithstanding. Won’t plan on going to book club next week.