Bonfire of Spectacles

With love, Jenna: it’s not the “language ‘we’ use”. It’s the President of the United States being blatantly racist and cruel. I know this is a big ask but: don’t frame it as ‘we’ doing anything. ‘He’ is doing it—and you and your dad should stand up, vocally. https://t.co/g9xOOxMYLp

— Soledad O'Brien (@soledadobrien) July 27, 2019

The fact that I know of Soledad O’Brien’s name means I must have picked it up from somewhere, which holds PBS or NPR suspect, but I have no context for her recognition and so remain unfazed that she and I follow each other, and in fact, although intonation can be hard to discern in relation to social media, her constancy in berating Trump supporters over their racism has nearly as much a satirical quality to it as the president’s shrewish grimace in North Carolina while his crowds obediently engaged in papier mache pep rally incantations, this too being a woefully inadequate strategic move against the encroachment posed by Llhan Omar. No less than a crusty old veteran like Bill Moyers backs up the argument pushed forth, at times with the reactionary force of a battering ram, against Omar’s representation, as with striking independence, he asked one of his interviewees (within the last eon) “Why is Africa so badly governed?” The question remains in full force today as it has since de-colonialization and the unraveling of imperialism, all but expired by the time of the Kennedy administration, with allowances for the Soviet frolic in Angola. Search cannot always provide the context to a frame, since we media dependents are discussing narrative frames in relation to populist challenges, but even frames are nothing new, as admirers of Joseph Conrad would comprehend. When Miles O’Brien replied to me on air while anchoring his then most recent Newshour story about not wearing his prosthetic arm, that was cause for a mild dose of slack jaw astonishment, partly because you learn not to expect such interstices despite digital folding lengths, but also partly due to anchorage, the familiarity of being a known quantity. Mr O'Brien had this for me without my ability to recall before and after bookends. Soledad doesn't have that and neither does her vehicle, Matter of Fact, but neither shall she have it. Sometimes, the best strategy is not revealing the hand you hold. Cato Institute contributors manage this particularly well. Johan Norberg orated on video that Africa would demand that its energy needs be met, on par with the developed world. This shouldn't necessarily mean that indigence in more privileged countries continues to downgrade, as under Llhan and her sympathizers it surely shall. By this reasoning, I'd admire Trump more if his administration brought federal charges against the congresswoman, popped her off to the ANC, wherein she'd have like minded company.

Next In Line

Um. Details please.

— Soledad O'Brien (@soledadobrien) June 26, 2019

There is an incurious internecine battle going on this late but cooler Sunday, as if the Me Too movement decibel decided to metamorphize its attention to patriarchal complacency masquerading as competency. Soledad O’Brien and other women in the fourth estate have launched some scathing criticism of Bret Stephens. According to these strident feminine voices, Stephens is the worst columnist printing at the flagship New York Times. All I can do is sit back and wish for a bag of herbal popcorn, as all I can tell you is I know Soledad’s name. She and I had a brief thread about titles which may have puzzled both she and I. Perhaps she wanted to know how I got an opinion piece about Jennifer Wilbanks into the Philadelphia Inquirer and made it my own. It was the convenience of timeliness, something I now lack due to a black woman named Trudy Richardson who has used her power to abuse me so thoroughly that my fantasies of motion involving her homicide where I fracture her skull into a mortal trauma isn’t too well held in check by the fact that it is what she wants so that she can dispose of me. I may hate what my former supervisor Linda did to me to get me to this point, and I hate those who protected her criminal malfeasance, but my life has endured incontrovertible set backs due to two black women in public housing, and it galls me beyond measure that all my academic promise has transmuted. I am a rabid animal who wants to destroy the domestic matron class forcing me to suffer almost beyond my capacity to endure it, and the hen house is now acluck over Stephens and his statistical inaccuracies, his designation of a new class, the Obama-Trump voter. What can I say? I am one of them. Obama and Mitt Romney and Pelosi made my life a living hell with Romney’s healthcare plan for Massachusetts, and Trump running around goring the establishment has only accentuated the city of Philadelphia’s time honored provincialism. I never had an easy time of it with NYT. Shortly before I managed online access, they threatened me with a collection agency over a three dollar deficit. Once online, they suspended my book forum account for momentary frustration with another poster, which was nothing, teeny funnel, but from what I can glean from Google, the media brand that the New York Times is has been challenged of late by other feature writers. I myself don’t believe Douthat and David French are worth what they’re paid: I demand more of Douthat’s mindset, and French is simply a cowering liberal who pities the police when they use deadly force against aggressors like me.