Too much time has elapsed, I realize, since my last encyclical. What can I say, I've been busy! Reading load now verging on the crazy ridiculous. All gripping stuff nonetheless. My classes this term involve Comparative Politics, Statistics, Intro to Politics, Hindi, and Corruption, Economic Development and Democracy. And the prize for sexiest title goes to... yep, got it in one! CEDD - an acronym I've just coined - is a joint course with the Law School. I'm hoping to ingratiate myself with a few future Supreme Court justices over the coming months, in the expectation, of course, of legal favors down the road ;)
Apart from the lowlights of many hours festering in the library, the week's seen some sky-scraping peaks. Number one: a super-cool-totally-awesome Saturday spent in the City. With Mike, Sharon, Pia and Christoph, I brunched at Beth and Dave's apartment on the upper East side. If you haven't yet participated in a New York Brunch (capital letter mandatory), you, my friend, have barely scratched the surface of living. From banana bread to booze, chorizo to Colombian coffee, maple syrup to mimosa, all of life's excesses come together in one rip-roaring consummation - think Bacchus and Epicurus hooking up on saturnalia and you're almost there. It's - well - a trifle indulgent. Actually, indulgent like a huge trifle. And the best thing ever conceived by human kind.
OK, my stock of superlatives is pretty much exhausted. The Met (bamboo jungle on the roof), Central Park, guitar man, surprise visit by Mike and Jess - these minor-to-major encounters made up the rest of our day. Obviously M&J's drop-by was the X factor on this conveyor belt of happy happenings. Only, it's always painful to say goodbye. As a sign of my affection, our picture together becomes blog post photo.
Last noteworthy event, I heard Karl Rove [*boo*, *hiss*, *throw a shoe*] speak here Wednesday. The subject? "Obamacare". So far so predictable. And he was, mainly. Except for his introduction. We'd just sat through an hour and a half of non-stop pomposity from the student leaders of Yale's "political parties" - selling and strutting their (indistinguishable) ideological goods using what they clearly believed to be inspired verbal gymnastics. Rove, in all his girth, strode to the podium, and, in deep Texan drawl, hollered, "I have ne'er in ma whole GODDAM life come 'cross en-thin' so goddam PRE-TEN-TIOUS as wha' we jus' heard there". At this moment he lunged to the nearby desk of the president and chairman, and grabbed three notepads from these suit-clad Union notables. Waving the offending items in the air, he roared: "Jus' y'all look at this, jus' take LOOK: M-O-L-E S-K-I-N-E, goddam MOLE-SKINE!" We were, I think, initially taken aback by this left-field assault on an object we'd never before considered particularly blame-worthy, or a mark of social distinction. But most began nodding heads, laughing appreciatively, coming round to Rove's side. I couldn't help suspecting, though, that somewhere in the region of 90 to 110 percent of the audience had a cheeky moleskine notebook stashed in a drawer at home - like some guilty secret. In my case a one-time impulse buy at Staples last summer, thinking I'd fill this fine-looking, beautifully bound pad, for which a mole presumably gave the last full measure of devotion, with interesting quotes from the classics (oh the shame). So Rove had a point, QED. Unfortunately, he then continued into his hackneyed healthcare talk. And the rest - so far as humor or intelligent argument's concerned - was silence.
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