A helluva year
The rains have come. Lobster is cheap. And soon, very soon, Donald Trump will be dragged by his swollen, gouty ankles from the Oval Office and dropped into a trash compacter. We will be done with this year.
The year won’t be done with us, of course. But I’m going to look to the bright sunlit uplands of the future, rather than the Abominable Hellscape of …