Nothing has summed up the intellectual Superfund site that is the MAGA hive mind quite as well as its current ensemble recitation of the absurd talking point that the president is likely to be "jacked up" on something when he debates the former president* on Thursday. It all started, of course, with the State of the Union address, in which the president was animated and genuinely funny. The cult snapped to attention immediately, intimating that the president had to have been juiced on something to deliver such a grand performance. Now, as their candidate wanders the landscape talking about electric tanks that don't exist, they're preemptively charging that the president will be wired to the teeth just in case their candidate starts babbling incoherently about his many wounds. |
|
|
At the Season 3 premiere, the star made a strong case for the beige suit. |
| If this is a sign of what's to come, we're in for a great-smelling year. |
|
|
When it comes to seemingly small decisions that can really screw up your whole day, choosing the wrong socks ranks way, way up there. I was forced to contend with this very reality yesterday, when the past-its-prime pair I pulled on before I left the house started slipping down my calfs, gathering under my arches, and eventually bunching at the toes. It was unpleasant. And I know we've all been there. What I don't know is why I decided to opt for those blown-out socks when I have much better ones on hand. They're from the Danvers collection, by Pantherella. |
|
|
The new NATO strap offerings are a surefire sign to take this timepiece on your next adventure. |
| The wild opinions of the guys behind menswear's favorite podcast, "Throwing Fits." |
|
|
On Monday, August 14, 1989, two hundred people gathered at a Hackensack, New Jersey, funeral home to say goodbye to AIDS activist Jeffrey Bomser. Local journalist Mike Kelly reported in his column for the next day's Bergen Record: "There were a rabbi, a Lutheran minister, and a Roman Catholic priest. There were gay people and straight people. There were retired men and career women. There was a mother with her infant." That infant was me, four days old at the funeral of my mother's first cousin, dead at 38 from AIDS-related causes just six months after AIDS took the life of his brother, Larry. I've always known that my great-aunt Evelyn and great-uncle Phil's only two children died in the AIDS epidemic the year I was born. I know it in the same way I know most family history without regard to how I first learned it, but until recently I'd never thought to ask about the rest of the story. |
|
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment