The New Yorker: purveyor of reality- all forms, all guises

When I woke up today, I checked my InBox. There was my daily email from The New Yorker online. I always save that for the last email I read because I love it and want to dig in, but only if I have time enough to really savor it. So I get the rest of the e’s taken care of and then settle in to read the best literary magazine ever (and an excellent commentator on current events and the world in toto). Other publications have contended: Utne Reader, Paris, the New York Times Magazine in the old days, articles of note in many other vehicles. But these days, and more devotedly ever since I actually left New York City to live elsewhere, The New Yorker is my jam.

I am in a good mood. Another beautiful day. A cozy bed with a somewhat handle-able ToDo list for a Saturday, my tinnitus not too bad. It was a very good morning until I started to scroll through the New Yorker’s list of articles. Here are the titles and blurbs of today’s choices:

“Obama Reckons with a Trump Presidency” Inside a stunned White House, the President talks about his legacy and America’s future. By David Remnick

“Jeff Sessions, Trump’s True Believer” He has a record of turning bigotry into political action, and now he’s up for Attorney General. By Amy Davidson

“Giuliani, Drained with the Swamp?” The former mayor’s work as a lobbyist for foreign interests may cost him the post he covets most: Secretary of State. By John Cassidy

“The Gathering Storm Around Trump” If anti-Trump protests continue to gain steam, it’s likely that pro-Trump groups will begin to demonstrate, too. By Evan Osnos

“The Undocumented Ask, ‘What Now?’” Following Trump’s victory, immigrants in red states fearfully confront a new reality. By Sarah Stillman

“Fighting Demons” “Manchester by the Sea” is a litany of human error, with the tragic parts nicked and grazed by semi-comedy. By Anthony Lane

“A Rapper’s Bold Anti-Trump Message” Aminé delivered a piercing indictment of late-night television’s milquetoast approach to politics during a recent performance. By Carrie Battan.

“Cartoons That Are Nothing but Net” In this episode of The Cartoon Lounge, Bob shows off his skills on the basketball court. By Robert Mankoff

And a video: “When Life Feels Like “The Truman Show” Since the rise of reality television, psychiatrists report that more patients believe that they are constantly being filmed. By The New Yorker

As Paul McCartney wrote: “This is the world in which we live in.” This? THIS?!
Even with that extra “in” at the end of his lyric, how can THIS be?

I read the Aminé piece. Then I read the review of “Manchester by the Sea.” Then I felt a tear dripping down the left side of my face. Then I knew that I could not escape the world in which we live, but I also can’t take reading more about it. So, I started writing this piece.

Here’s the situation:

1. I won’t march or demonstrate. I choose to not be a rabble-rouser because, as Evan Osnos notes, the other side can march and demonstrate, with retribution as their goal. And that will only make things worse.
2. Thanks to the article on Aminé, I now know that rap can be profound and timely poetry. Expression of self and what’s REALLY happening.
3. I want to see both of the reviewed movies, which means that Anthony Lane did a really fine sales job. The movie industry will rejoice. My fervent hope is that I will, too.
4. I want Roy Rogers and Dale Evans to come here and sing “Happy trails to you, until we meet again” because more than anything, I want to believe – and to witness – a happy journey and ending. I wasn’t brought up to be a miserable cynic. And it is not my choice. It is so hard to know what to do that will help oneself, let alone the world. I really do need a good-guy singing cowboy to come along with his song and palomino. Right now. What are my chances? What are yours?

And here come the somewhat delayed November winds that will blow all those coveted leaves – ready or not – off the trees. This time around, that natural phenomenon feels like an omen.