




Tuesday morning, while a Manhattan jury has his case, he books a stage on the network he calls fake. The jury is back in under three hours: liable, for sexual abuse and for defamation — five million dollars owed to the writer he says he has never met, and the verdict is answered at full volume as a disgrace. One night later he plays his town hall in New Hampshire and the room laughs with him. And Monday the long-awaited report on the first hunt's origins lands — it should never have been opened — and one word thunders over the palace lawn: treason.
Readers' Corner
Letters from the readership on Week 413. Pick a pen name — no account needed.
Opening the mailbag…