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(Mmmm…gonna get some blue drapes for this room in a few months…Jackson’s gone, picture of Jesus in the garden, always liked that…have to make sure I’m never alone with Nancy…what’s this, Wednesday, cottage cheese and strawberry Yoohoo for lunch…wonder if I still have that badminton racket…badminton could be my thing, like golf for Ike and Tubby here…Nancy has amazing legs, what is she, eighty?…no, no, think about cottage cheese…Mother has legs like cottage cheese…gosh, Tubby, let the lady finish a sentence…poor Kelly, he was actually crying while he cleaned out his desk…have to throw him a bone when I take over…ambassador to someplace warm…Ayers was a nice guy, but I overheard him take the Lord’s name in vain…have to remember, get that recording system in my office removed…next guy can install his own…Nancy’s from Sin Francisco, really be a feather in my cap on Judgment Day if I brought her to the Lord…we could read the Bible in here…must stop thinking about Nancy!…so hungry…wall, wall, enough about the stupid wall…I wonder if she and Schumer — no, that’s crazy…why exactly am I here?)

At a hearing of the House Judiciary Committee, Zoe Lofgren (D-CA) asked Google CEO Sundar Pichai, "If you Google the word ‘idiot’ under images, a picture of Donald Trump comes up. gas equations chemistry How would that happen?" Mr. Pichai explained about algorithms, as if she didn’t know. Meanwhile thousands of people Googled "idiot" just to check. I don’t know much about algorithms, but I’m pretty sure that only made it better. Worse, I mean worse.

Mr. Pichai could have referred the Congresswoman to today’s comedy matinee, "Wall or Nothing At All." He’s still at it, demanding billions to wall out the diseased terrorists and drug mules, or America will cease to be. What was apparently supposed to be a photo-op with Chuck Schumer, Nancy Pelosi and the newly embalmed corpse of Mike Pence turned into a televised debate/tantrum, with Trump repeating "wall" over and over while Pelosi tried to explain that even now, the House won’t give him the money, and in three weeks it even more won’t. Meanwhile, Schumer maneuvered Trump into bragging that he’ll "shut down the government" and take full responsibility. wd gaster battle By actual count he interrupted Pelosi nineteen times in ten minutes and repeatedly called her "Nancy" because that’s how Daddy taught him to talk to bitches. She was unimpressed, and no doubt will continue to be unimpressed until 2021 or the end of Trump’s presidency, whichever comes first.

Remember Zoe Baird? She was Bill Clinton’s first choice for attorney general way back in 1993. Her nomination was withdrawn because of a cataclysmic scandal the media tagged with the lazy term "Nannygate." It seems she and her husband had employed two undocumented Peruvians as nanny and chauffeur, and failed to pay Social Security and income tax for them. A nation was shocked, shocked, and the ground was prepared for the Whitewater Follies and eventual impeachment.

It seems that Both Sides Do Indeed Do It. Four women have now come forward, risking deportation, to say they were employed as housekeepers at the Trump Intergalactic Golf and Sedition Center or whatever it’s called, in Bedminster, New Jersey. One of them gave details of being alternately tipped by Cadet Bonespurs and excoriated for failing to get the orange makeup out of a white golf shirt. Really. I couldn’t make that up. Yes, the management knew they had no papers and told them to acquire phony ones. gas prices going up or down Their names and countries of origin are known to the media, and now presumably to the ICEstapo.

I can picture a weary Robert Mueller saying, "Holey socks, I’m not starting another charge sheet at this point. I’d like to wind this thing up before my grandkids finish college." But it would be worthwhile to point out that 1. Clinton didn’t break the law, and 2. Clinton didn’t spend every day raging at poor people who come here to work and have a better life, not to mention 3. Clinton didn’t put their children in cages. I’ll bet that with a little digging, the Liberal Media could find any number of undocumented busboys, caddies, gardeners, porters and dishwashers at any number of Trump properties, rather than waiting for them to get fed up with the racist attacks and come forward. It would look like they were doing their job.

I get it. I understand why the right froths at the mouth on the subject of "political correctness." We may not mean exactly the same thing — they believe it means denying their right to be racist, sexist and generally obnoxious — but I think I can tell when people get silly about words spoken (or written) in innocence and drafted into our endless game of Moral Preening.

The topic of today’s homily is Frank Loesser’s 1949 song "Baby, It’s Cold Outside," which has been banned by a number of radio stations because someone decided it celebrates date-rape. grade 9 electricity test I just went over to YouTube and treated myself to the supremely sexy Betty Carter-Ray Charles recording — research, you know — and apparently the objectionable line is "So what’s in this drink?" The people enraged by the song apparently stopped listening at that point and didn’t hear the woman add "At least I’m gonna say that I tried." In other words, for all her protests — "I really can’t stay" — and reservations — "My father will be pacing the floor" — she is more than happy to take advantage of the weather and spend the night with this man, and to hell with her maiden aunt. (People, any song that references "maiden aunts" is not to be taken seriously. See also Dorothy Fields’s lyric for "A Fine Romance.") The drink is just a drink.

The national debt has now topped $21 trillion, thanks in large part to demented military spending, Republican tax cuts, and the sabotage of American industry and agriculture. Asked if this is likely to make the economy implode, Tariff Man replied, "Yeah, but I won’t be here." In other words, it’s what Douglas Adams called SEP — somebody else’s problem. Meanwhile, blame will be shifted to Medicare, foreign aid, Headstart (if that still exists) and the damnable expense of natural disasters. Tighten the belts! Rake the forests!

The White House Correspondents Dinner organizers couldn’t find a comedian who was either right-wing and funny, or liberal and prepared to endure death threats from the Q Continuum, so they have asked the biographer Ron Chernow to speak instead. A delighted Trump, who believes he ended the career of Michelle Wolf, has threatened to attend. He should probably read (hah!) Mr. Chernow’s op-ed in the September 23, 2010, New York Times, "The Founding Fathers Versus the Tea Party." It might not be the tongue-bath Donnie anticipates.

I just checked, and the world is still laughing at Trump’s G-20 antics, especially the part where he left the president of Argentina alone onstage and wandered off, saying, "Get me the hell out of here." It was clearly the fault of President Macri (Argentina) and President Macron (France) for having practically the same name. He also has trouble with Balkans/Baltics and June/July.

Friends of Rudolph Giuliani — and they totally exist — were planning a party to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of his becoming mayor of New York, after a campaign whose naked racism prefigured Trump’s. (Remember the Giuliani rally/near riot of cops outside City Hall, ramping up hatred of the incumbent "washroom attendant" David Dinkins? Good times.) An article in today’s Daily News quotes an unnamed source as saying America’s Mayor is "too toxic" to party with, owing entirely to his current employment as Trump’s loyal mouthpiece. 7 gas laws The source goes on to compare the proposed shindig to a "mafia wedding," with LEOs and reporters studying, filming and photographing the guests for future reference. electricity distribution vs transmission The article says planners "struggled to find supporters willing to pay for tickets." Well, sure, who wants to go to a party where you have to pay? Even Roy Cohn never demanded cash for the privilege of attending his parties. Of course, he wasn’t saving up for his third (probable) divorce. Free food — that’s how they got people to show up for Scrooge’s funeral. And one day, Giuliani’s.

Most awards are vaguely controversial, at least among those who don’t win. "It’s an honor just to be nominated" may be the most dishonest sentence in the English language. But this year, in keeping with the national mood of simmering rage, every piece of honorary bric-a-brac seems to be trailing drops of blood and specks of saliva. For example, the Mystery Writers of America are giving their Edgar Award to Linda Fairstein, presumably because they like her crime novels. Before she turned to fiction, Fairstein was the Manhattan assistant district attorney who prosecuted the Central Park Five, the Latino and African American teenagers accused of raping and nearly killing a jogger in 1989. Their convictions were vacated in 2002 when another man confessed, and after they had spent nearly thirteen years in prison. I can understand why this case continues to anger people, especially since Fairstein maintains that the five somehow "participated" in the crime. Donald Trump goes further (of course), insisting even now that the men should be executed. Well, if he can’t stand to admit he was spectacularly wrong, why should she? And what has any of this to do with Fairstein’s abilities as a novelist? The MWA aren’t naming her Humanitarian of the Year.

We have already seen what Trump considers to be outstanding service to America — earlier this month he handed out Presidential Medals of Freedom just like a real president. Well, sort of. gaston y la agrupacion santa fe The lucky winners included Orrin Hatch, now ending his career as a reliably far-right monster; Antonin Scalia, already ended; Roger Staubach and Alan Page of the NFL Hall of Fame (Page also served as a judge); Elvis Presley (sure, why not?); Babe Ruth (but not Rogers Hornsby, Willie Mays, Ted Williams, Ty Cobb, Roberto Clemente, Nolan Ryan, Bob Gibson…); and most egregiously Miriam Adelson. Adelson is a physician and researcher, but nobody doubted for a second that she was honored for being married to Sheldon Adelson, sugar-daddy to the right. (If this were Britain they’d be Baron and Baroness Baccarat or something.) Freedom’s just another word for "keep those checks coming."

Trump presided over the event with his customary Friars Club-roast panache, leering at Mrs. physical science electricity review worksheet Scalia’s fecundity, singling out Hatch’s most important quality ("He likes me") and generally making every non-Trumpanzee who witnessed the proceedings yearn for the eloquence and grace of George W. Bush. The award to Elvis must have triggered one of his lone remaining synapses, because weeks later, campaigning for Cindy Hyde-Smith in Tupelo, he suddenly remembered that in his youth he was often mistaken for Elvis. The sneer, I’m guessing. Once again the Kennedy Center Honors will be celebrated in the blessed absence of Trumps, and probably not just because they can’t be arsed. The host will be Gloria Estefan, and even if she is from Cuba, she is the face of naturalized immigrant America and everything Trump hates. Philip Glass? Wayne Shorter? Who the hell are they? Cher? She must be like a hundred. The creators of "Hamilton," the show where the audience and the cast all tried to kill Mike Pence? No thanks. That just leaves Reba McEntire. Does she like me?

For comic relief we turn to Mexico, still unwalled, whose outgoing president is having fun with the people who didn’t re-elect him by presenting the Order of the Aztec Eagle — and remember, I’m making none of this up — to slumlord-in-law Jared Kushner. He credits the s-i-l with exercising "restraint" which kept Mexico in NAFTA, or whatever non-Clintonian name it carries now, and with preventing a full-scale US invasion. Imagine what the House of Saud owes him.