Jeff Toobin and the Power of Now
Was I, almost literally, a fly on the wall? In the august company of ambidextrous writers-cum-political actors, Toobin, as was said delicately, “ lowered the camera”. Like a genuflection to his colleagues, he had been morphing into Biden, waxing Conservative, learning to loathe. Indeed, with such stress at hand, what is a man to do?
To say, I feel for him is a bit gratuitous. One moment, opining, supine the next. In flagrante at its’ most sublime with Osnos and Farrow, even more breathless . In that moment of realization, I surely wonder what would Roth’s Zuckerman have done? Testing the mettle of a progressive is task indeed. For in their world, of “ they and them”, Toobin does the ultimate, “ me”.
But wait, we have the Apologia. Arise Toobin, aghast that reality snuck into the most make believe. Soon, floridly earnest Toobin apologizing to wife and kids and dogs and houseplants. The only one not tearfully addressed was Cardi B, but she had already had her hands full. I guess WAP and WASP are even further apart than they seem.
I as so glad that David Resnick struck the right chord or it would be even less likely that I would ever again touch another hard copy of the New Yorker. CNN got it right, as it usually does, by saying something totally nonsensical. Yes, I guess Toobin will take a bit more personal time.