The good news is that a reality T V show star has been escorted off the White House grounds. The bad news is they got the wrong one.
Harper’s Weekly Review ran down (um) Roy Moore’s life and candidacy in one breathless and breathtaking swoop.
Which ended, thusly:
“If you don’t believe in my character, don’t vote for me,” said Moore, who then put on a cowboy hat, mounted a horse named Sassy, galloped to the polls, voted for himself, and lost the election. “Neigh,” said Sassy.
Just got back from the Met Opera where I was listening to Nozze di Figaro. Which involves a incessantly lubricious and adulterous guy who sexually powers over any woman who works for him.
However. Had I known back last year when I booked the ticket that the Alabama election was tonight, I wouldn’t have gone.
I was far too jittery to remain at the Met for the last two acts so decided to leave after act II.
The act ended, stage lights went out, applause, I began to reach for my coat and looked downward at the orchestra section of the house. The minute the act ended, I saw an explosion of little lights. Everyone who had a phone had turned it on and was looking at the screen.
Hundreds of screens. I had no doubt whatsoever that everyone was looking at the election returns.