For my own sanity, I have to pretend that none of it is happening…
The New Yorker has a great list of imagined Tweets by Donald Trump on literary classics:
Weak Hamlet should stop moaning about past and get on with his life. All talk, no action! King Claudius has my full support.
Successful businessmen should be left alone by boring ghosts and sad employees. Bob Cratchit is a loser. No enthusiasm! Also . . .
No one is saying Owl and Pussycat can’t be together, just don’t rub it in our face. And the boat is an embarrassment!
Wolf well within rights to evict disgusting pigs from below-code structures.
Read the full list here.
“We did not ask for this room or this music. We were invited in. Therefore, because the dark surrounds us, let us turn our faces to the light. Let us endure hardship to be grateful for plenty. We have been given pain to be astounded by joy. We have been given life to deny death. We did not ask for this room or this music. But because we are here, let us dance.”
I know we should all be worried about the slow and inexorable progress of the hands on the Doomsday Clock, but all I could think of was the Iron Maiden classic: