Not so many hours ago, a
rather loud head-of-state-
to-be picked a quarrel in
our language, with a mag-
azine for its opinion of a
with his name on it. We're
all on notice, to beef up.
It didn't always happen, of course, that the arbiter of life and death on our minor little coil would plump for enter-prises blustering his name. We'd have said, lustering, but the neologism would have emptied the room, of anyone cognizant of the difference between a clip joint and statecraft.
This is Christmas Eve, and
we are circumspect where
the foibles of consumption
are concerned. But it is
as good a time as any, to
reiterate a belief of long
acceptance, that any child
who hustles his weaknesses
is incongruous as a hero.
He's every bit as apt to
adore our enemies, cave to
our clients, and call for
the middle of morning tea.
You'd think he had lost,
or knew he did.
You'd think he had lost,
or knew he did.
Dance studio
Betty Lasker, photography
Dinner at home in Washington
Photographer unknown
1962
Study for our masthead
Ivan Terestchenko, designer
Tassos Paschalis, photography
2010
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