Serving ImPeachMint Cocktails at the Dakota Bar. Carl Bernstein is donning his Watergate Cap on CNN. Gloria Borger and Jeffrey Toobin in cheerleader outfits shaking pom poms. Wolf breathlessly skipping around yelling “bombshell” “bombshell” “breaking news”!!!!
Is it obstruction week or infrastructure week? Trump has his hand on the tweeter. Ten minutes until showtime. Ready for Hype Gate. Let’s go.
Bloody Mary mix. Check. Mimosa makings. Check. Cocktail hour starts tomorrow at 10 am. Bars stocked with snacks for The Comey Show. Every channel. Cable and MSM. Radio. Live stream. Former FBI Director center stage. Again. Same guy who spewed judgy speechiness at Hillary. Now. He’ll say he couldn’t say no to one-on-one meetings with El Trumpo. Why not? Obstruction set-up. We’ll soon know.
To act. Check. Balance. Intervene. Take a stand. Is there a statesman or stateswoman in the House? Or the Senate? It’s not okay to support the behavior of this petulant adolescent President. Tolerate dangerous tweets. Huge leadership vacuum. Mitch. Paul. Where are you? It’s not about legalities. Nor policies. Nor the next election. It’s about the Country.
The Press is no better. They cheerlead for tweets and misdeeds to keep coming. Ranting about Russia. Soliciting leaks. For ratings and dollars. As Rome burns.
No not pigeons. Actually haven’t seen lots of those. Geese galore. Ducks abundant. At the Lake in Central Park. But. Every morning and evening bird songs resound. Cardinals. Robins. Sparrows. In real trees right outside our windows. Believe it or not. More warbling music here than in the country. Can’t hear songbirds out in the ‘burbs when the lawn mowers, leaf blowers blare daily at dusk. A surprise city pleasure.
House of Cards is back. Yay! Since we last left President Frank Underwood there has been a real election. And somebody even worse than Frank has won. Or does he make even The Donald look good? Does Claire? We’ll see. Ready for a binge-fest.
What would be a House of Trump fantasy plot? The Cabinet which consists of generales and consiglieres resigns after Melissa McCarthy announces at her press briefing that Trump is declaring war on Germans who still look like “nah-zees”. Mattis & McMaster mount a military coup. They deport the Donald to Russia to build concrete condos for Putin & Co. Pence joins Church of Scientology and Karen goes missing. The Donald’s current and former wives whose names end in the letter “A” create a pink pussy coif coven. Don Jr. & Eric retreat to a big-game hunt in Africa and are eaten by hyenas. Jared & Ivanka hightail it to Southeast Asia to make cheap shoes. Tiffany heads off to law school after she puts covfefe in Barron’s Cocoa Puffs.
The Night Ocean, by Paul La Farge. I’m not sure. It kept me rapt. Author clearly had lots of things to work through. Personally. Maybe. Literarily many unfinished stories found their way into this dense work. Sprawling disjointed tales of several complex people in different times and places. Spaces. Told from a woman’s point of view, Marina the shrink, working out her own issues. The author gave her an authentic voice. It begins as her husband Charlie disappears into Agawam Lake in the Berkshires. H.S. Lovecraftian fandom less clear. More context necessary for those not acquainted with this cult of science-fiction-horror genre. Nonetheless. Worth the meandering page-turning journey. Lots to think about. La Farge’s New Yorker view.
Speaking of mind-bending. Twin Peaks so far is a self-indulgent David Lynchian acid trip with no redeeming plot value. Vomitaceous. Literally.
Romantic evening tableau. Four sailors and a gondolier. Fleet week. Central Park.
Photo: Dr. Gary Levine