I don't know why I don't read The New Yorker, I'm sure it must be a
wonderful magazine. I remember someone trying to get to read me to read
it telling me that anyone who wanted to be anyone would read The New
Yorker, but I never really got into it. It's not that I've never tried,
but I guess I'm part of that generation that no longer reads for more
than 10 minutes unless there is something really exciting going on...so
in case you are in my age group, let's get to the point before I lose
you too.
I
love this cover for the magazine. It's almost as good if not better
than the Barack and Michele Obama cover from 4 years back when they
showed the fears of people mistaking Mrs. Obama for the myth of Angela
Davis, a radicalized black woman. This cover simply and succinctly sums
up my entire thoughts of the recent presidential debate between the
President and Governor Romney, at least the parts that I saw and not the
40 minutes in the middle where I fell asleep.
From the moment Romney came on stage and congratulated Barack Obama for
his wedding anniversary, I thought he looked like he might be a force to
be reckoned with. He was vibrant and precise and hit back whenever he
thought he was being pushed into a corner, whereas the President seemed
tired and reticent and unsure of himself. I kind of got the impression
that if Obama could have been anywhere, his choice would not have been
there. It was almost as if Romney was speaking to an empty chair.
I bet somewhere in California, there's an old actor/director asking, "Can you hear me now?"