Politico says it has obtained a draft opinion from Justice Samuel Alito striking down Roe v. Wade. It certainly looks like his work.
The leak of a draft opinion from the Supreme Court to Politico would have been an earthquake beneath the surface civility of Washington in any case. But to have the first such leak be Justice Samuel Alito's draft opinion demolishing Roe v. Wade was beyond even that. This was not an earthquake. It was Krakatoa. The reputation of the Supreme Court lies in ruins at the bottom of the sea. The lives of millions of American women have been immiserated. The basic topography of the American republic has been rearranged. Again. Everything that happens is an opportunity to be the victim who just needs one more favorable call. As 'Roe v. Wade' appears increasingly likely to be overturned, here are 26 states with organizations that could use your support.  At 76 years old, there's not much John Waters hasn't tried. The legendary Pope of Trash has battled censorship, dropped acid, and hitchhiked across America, but until recently, one thing eluded him: writing a novel. His debut in the format arrives today, and it's a characteristically Waters-ian phantasmagoria of good, unclean fun. The filmmaker, writer, and artist takes his first bow with Liarmouth, a "perfectly perverted feel-bad romance" about Marsha "Liarmouth" Sprinkle, a con woman caught up in a bad romance with Darryl, the degenerate loser with whom she steals suitcases from airport luggage carousels. Marsha has promised Darryl sex for his services after one year of employment, but when she skips out without paying up, Darryl is out for revenge. Their cat-and-mouse caper brings them into contact with unforgettable characters like Marsha's mother Adora, who runs a dog facelift clinic; Richard, Darryl's talking penis; and Poppy, Marsha's trampoline-addicted daughter, who's also the leader of a cult for bouncing enthusiasts. Take half off excellent workout gear, casual clothes, and more. Because a basket (or box) of nice stuff is a welcome surprise any mom will love. It's a sunny day and I'm crying as Wilco's "Darkness is Cheap," a track off their new album Cruel Country, plays off a crappy bluetooth speaker on the dining room table that doubles as my desk. There are birds outside fighting at the feeder and the sky is blue after days of rain and the endless gray that defined spring in Chicago this year. Frontman Jeff Tweedy's brittle voice fills gaps between the sparse instrumentation. A horn, a piano, a guitar. It's beautiful and sad the way so many things are nowadays. Before I realize it, tears are rolling down my cheeks. It's been a long few years. For me, for you, for Jeff Tweedy. |
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