By Ann Rostow Time Slouches On Has it really been only two weeks since last we met, dear readers? It feels like two months, which suggests that our experience of…
By Ann Rostow Every day, every week, every month, this Trump business has gotten worse. It’s all been worse than I expected, and believe me, dear readers, my expectations were…
By Ann Rostow Where No One Has Gone Before I no longer wake up in surreal shock. In some ways, I suppose I’ve accepted the fact that Donald Trump has…
By Ann Rostow It’s hard to believe that another year has come and gone, and even harder to believe the shocking turn of events that befell us, and continue to…
By Ann Rostow Please Keep Mitt! My vigilant cousin provided us with our word of the week: “kakistocracy,” a government run by the least qualified. Yes, I know. You ran…
By Ann Rostow Oh, Man I always have to read my previous column before I start a new one, mainly in order to avoid repetition. And thus I was obliged…
By Ann Rostow Google: “Penguin Homewrecker” I am writing ahead of you on Election Day, still in that state of terrified anxiety, torn between gluing myself to a combination of…
By Ann Rostow Yes, Puppet There was something about the way he said it. “Nooo PUPPet! Nooo PUPPet!” It was mindlessly delightful to me, and I could not get it…
By Ann Rostow Billy Buddy Do you know what scene bothered me the most in the Access Hollywood tape? It’s when Billy Bush asked the actress Arianna Zucker to give…
By Ann Rostow Where’s My Line? I’ve spent the last ten days or so uncharacteristically avoiding political coverage on TV, because I could not bear to contemplate Trump’s improving chance…
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