ATLANTA. THE GROUND IS PREPARED: TWO PODIUMS, NO CROWD, NO NOTES.
“Crooked Joe Biden’s “Handlers” are loudly and profusely complaining that there will be no Fact Checkers during the Debate on Thursday.…”
THURSDAY, NINE O'CLOCK. NINETY MINUTES.
THE COUNTRY WATCHES THE OTHER MAN GROW OLD ON THE STAGE.
PAST MIDNIGHT, FLYING HOME. THE WIRE SINGS.
(Stephen Miller: “Congrats on the greatest debate win in the history of presidential debates.”)
FRIDAY: THE OTHER KINGDOM WAKES IN PANIC. ITS OWN HERALDS ASK IF THE OLD KING CAN GO ON.
Strange things happen in big time politics, and believe me, this is big time politics!…
MONDAY: THE HIGH COURT HANDS BACK THE ARMOR — IMMUNITY FOR OFFICIAL ACTS. EVERY CASE AGAINST HIM MUST REDRAW ITS MAP.
“BIG WIN FOR OUR CONSTITUTION AND DEMOCRACY. PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN!”
TO BE CONTINUED →
物語
This week in the saga
Thursday night, Atlanta. The debate he demanded — no audience, no notes, two podiums in a cold studio. For ninety minutes the country watches the other man grow old on the stage: the sentences trail into nothing, the mouth hangs open, the eyes stare at something no one else can see. He barely has to swing. By midnight his own side is exultant and the other kingdom is in open panic; by the weekend the rival's allies are asking in print whether the old king can go on. And on Monday morning the highest court in the land hands him back his armor: immunity for official acts. The week that broke the race open.
読者
Readers' Corner
Letters from the readership on Week 472. Pick a pen name — no account needed.
Readers' Corner
Letters from the readership on Week 472. Pick a pen name — no account needed.
Opening the mailbag…