



Five hundred and fifty-two days after the helicopter lifted him away, a motorcade crosses the river into the capital again — his first return since he lost it. In a ballroom he gives the old sermon: prosecute the ones who stole the election, not the ones telling the truth about it. Then the war pauses for golf at the northern fortress — record money, great excitement — and Sunday he files a mock diagnosis of the man in the White House. Somewhere in the capital, paperwork is quietly moving.
Readers' Corner
Letters from the readership on Week 372. Pick a pen name — no account needed.
Opening the mailbag…