Last weekend, Donald Trump tweeted his distaste for Alec Baldwin’s portrayal of him on Saturday Night Live, calling the show “boring and unfunny.” But SNL, which has been poking fun at presidential elections since 1976, is experiencing its highest ratings in eight years. Back then, during the 2008 election, Tina Fey famously guest-starred to play then-vice-presidential nominee Sarah Palin.
This week, we asked readers via Politics & Policy Daily to share their favorite SNL election sketches. Here are some of the best responses.
Thanks to David H. Lippman for suggesting the 1992 episode where Dana Carvey and Phil Hartman—portraying Ross Perot and Jim Stockdale, respectively—discuss Stockdale’s erratic behavior at the vice-presidential debate:
Jeff Harris offered up his favorite SNL presidential debate skit: a spoof on the 53rd Republican Debate in 1988:
Dan Aykroyd is fantastic as Bob Dole on the heels of a televised spar with George Bush (“I know it. You know it. The American people know it.”) Dana Carvey as George Bush is great too, but Al Franken as Pat Robertson seals the deal for me.
And while not election-related, we really enjoyed Martin Ward’s suggestion of Dan Aykroyd as President Carter accepting unscreened calls from listeners on a call-in talk show:
This week in our Politics & Policy Daily newsletter, we asked readers who should represent the Red Planet if President Obama’s goal is accomplished and humans are able to “remain there for an extended time.” We got some great responses via hello@. Michael Wood reminds us that Dennis Kucinich, a former Democratic congressman and presidential contender, once saw a UFO and claimed he had “felt a connection in his heart and heard directions.” Wood said Kucinich is “clearly best positioned to continue his role as liaison.”
Props to reader Michael Zarrelli for recommending the late James Traficant, another Democratic congressman from Ohio, who used to end speeches with the phrase “Beam me up!” Zarrelli’s idea is echoed by regular question-answerer Howard Cohen: “Perhaps the ashes of former Rep. James ‘Beam me up, Scotty’ Traficant have already reached Mars and they already have a ‘congressman’”?
Another reader, Dirk Bloemendaal, suggested that California Governor “Moonbeam” Jerry Brown might make a good Mars representative:
He has always had a fascination with outer space and once proposed that California launch its own space satellite. Of course, he’d have to run for Congress, on the “far out” plank, and his advanced age may slow him down a bit—but his California Dreamin’ Drive would see him through!
Lastly, Catherine Martin has some 2016 election snark: “I think we should send Donald Trump to ‘remain there for an extended time.’”
As our own Megan Garber leads The Atlantic’s movie club in the weeks leading up to Election Day, we asked what politics-related film our Politics & Policy Daily readers consider to be mandatory viewing for all Americans. We got loads of submissions for classics like The Candidate, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and Advise & Consent. Big props to Michael J. Sweat for reminding us about the 2006 film Idiocracy, starring Luke Wilson.
And to Alicia Shepard for All the President's Men, which she calls “a fascinating window into the changing world of journalism and the nefarious world of Nixon’s presidency.”
And from avid Daily reader Howard Cohen: “Given the conspiracies that Trump has been putting out going back to the birther issue—including that the election will be rigged if he loses—there is no better political flick to watch before November 8 than The Parallax View.”
Another reader offered a movie for both Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, letting us “guess for which candidate each film is germane”:
1. Hitler: A Career: The rise and fall of a firebrand and despot who uses pure emotion to rile the masses
2. Evita: Wife of a dictatorial president who yearns to break out on her own
The common thread? In both cases, film and real-life, it’s all about them.
And thanks to John Donovan for offering a selection of more obscure political films based on genre:
Satire—Bulworth: A flawed film but dead-on depiction of the nihilistic political hucksters gutting our democracy. Worth a watch just for Warren Beatty rapping and romancing Halle Berry, and Oliver Platt’s brilliant portrayal of a craven Hill staffer.
Serious—Battle of Chile: Historic documentary filmed as the overthrow of Allende happened. You’ll never forget the footage of a soldier firing at and killing the cameraman filming him.
Classic—The Great McGinty by Preston Sturges. Corruption has never been funnier … until maybe Chris Christie.
Cult—Maidstone: written, directed, and starring Norman Mailer who plays a presidential candidate. Famous for scary, semi-real assassination attempt by hammer-wielding method actor Rip Torn. Pure madness.
Finally, Mark Febrizio offers up the 1974 classic Chinatown which, despite not being about politics, he writes, “offers a dark, yet realistic, depiction of the repercussions of eroded political and legal institutions.”
More from Mark:
On a basic level, the water shortage is a consequence of institutional—not just environmental—problems (I think this is something most can agree on regardless of one’s preferred solution). Furthermore, we also see the results of a government bureaucracy (the L.A. Department of Water and Power) captured by business interests, and the paralyzing effects of the distorted incentives for law enforcement officials.
Chinatown isn’t a movie that provides political solutions but instead offers substantial food for thought, especially for the many Americans who may feel that contemporary political and legal institutions have similarly eroded. Additionally, it’s worth watching just for the exceptional screenplay, gripping performances, and taut direction.
Jeb Bush, one of the Republican presidential candidates this year, made a cameo as a limo driver during the Emmy Awards last Sunday night. Rick Perry, who also briefly ran for the White House, is now a contestant on Dancing With the Stars. This week, we asked readers where they expect to see the former 2016 presidential contenders on television, and we got some great answers.
Props to reader Jeremy Glenn for predicting Libertarian Party presidential nominee Gary Johnson will end up on “the next installment of Survivor”—assuming he doesn’t win in November, that is.
But our personal favorite comes from reader Joanne Allard, who expects Dr. Ben Carson to show up in an ad for the sedative Ambien, although “through the list of possible side effects, he’ll have moved on to an ad for luggage.”
And even though House Speaker Paul Ryan never ran for president, Joanne would not be surprised if the CrossFit fanatic ended up performing promotional videos “for extreme-fitness programs that air at 2 a.m.”
Finally, here’s a whole slew of ideas from one of our regular contributors, Dirk Bloemendaal:
Donald Trump: Modern Family, ’cause he’d fit right in. (Alternative: Game of Thrones, because Winter is Coming.)
Hillary Clinton: The Voice, ’cause hers is so melodic and smooth when she raises it.
Critics pounced on Today Show host Matt Lauer for his handling of NBC’s Commander in Chief forum featuring Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, foreshadowing the level of scrutiny the moderators will face during this fall’s presidential debates. The scheduled moderators are Anderson Cooper of CNN, Lester Holt of NBC, Martha Raddatz of ABC, and Chris Wallace of Fox News—and they’re already feeling the heat.
So, this week we asked readers to offer their thoughts on who might make the best presidential debate moderator and why. Several readers suggested MSNBC host Rachel Maddow. Here’s Marguerite Beaudoin’s reasoning:
It is my opinion that Rachel Maddow would be a great moderator, despite the fact that she is a Democrat. She is capable of conducting herself in an unbiased and professional manner and can “handle” both of them without doubt.
Here’s Maddow in action:
There was also a lot of support for Democracy Now! host and producer Amy Goodman. Why? Reader Lisa McDaniels picked Goodman because she’s “smart, has an amazing breadth and depth of knowledge, is even-tempered, is independent/not owned by corporate media, and looks like a real human being, not an air-brushed celebrity.”
A particularly great suggestion came from reader Steven Durham, who really wishes Judge Judy could moderate the presidential debates:
She would destroy Trump for having no substance; she would destroy Clinton for her terrible campaigning skills; and she’d be entertaining, which is what the American voter apparently needs in order to be engaged.
Reader Joe Bookman suggested The Atlantic’s very own Molly Ball: “She is smart, fair, has demonstrated knowledge of the issues as well as the candidates, and is likely not well-known by the candidates themselves.” Another reader, David Murray, described what a talented debate moderator would bring to the stage:
The best moderator, in my opinion, will:
a) Hold the speaker accountable for a clear answer and do not allow a speaker to side-step a question.
b) Prevent speakers from using personal attacks on their opponent and remain solely on the issues and questions. Any form of name calling or derogatory remarks are to be halted and called out (example: “Crooked Hillary”). The moderator must insist on respect for the person.
c) Ensure speakers stay in the time allotment and be firm in cutting them off especially if their response is not addressing the question, is attacking their opponent, or is posturing.
In my opinion, the moderator in these important presidential debates is not a simple bystander, especially with these two candidates. The issues are too great and these two have been skirting them for too long. And if the media is ever to restore any semblance of credibility, the moderators must be strong, clear journalists asking straightforward questions, not allowing the candidates to fudge or skirt an answer. The questions must be precise and to the point. They must be realistic. They must address current, complex issues in a way that allows for clear, concise, and thoughtful responses. The moderator, in my opinion, must seek responses that answer the basic journalist’s framework: 5 Ws and an H.
We need to know how the next president will govern, how he or she will make decisions, how he/she will collaborate, how he/she will reduce the influence of special interests and how he/she will stand up to special interests; how he/she will lift up the poor, improve the safety nets of Americans, and help foster a more just society.
The moderators must be more prepared than the candidates, be firm, be courageous, and be mindful of the American people and not the ratings of a broadcast company.
This next reader, Donald Haskell, also made an interesting point about the unique role of a moderator:
I don’t know enough to respond to the debate moderator choice question, but I believe that the guidelines for a moderator should be quite different from those of a news interviewer. I think that the moderator is tasked with generating a list of questions that challenge the debaters to clarify their positions on a broad range of topics, and it is the debate opponent's responsibility to challenge the response, not the moderator’s (in contrast to the responsibilities of a news interviewer).
Secondly, both, but especially the debate moderator, must exercise control over the process, even if it means using an on/off switch to cut off a debater or interviewee when they exceed the parameters of the event (similar to the minister who redirected Mr Trump at the Flint church).
And finally, props to reader Patricia Heaps for keeping it light: She suggested that Donald Duck should moderate the presidential debates because “this race is a cartoon.”
Congress returned to Capitol Hill this week, and Candice and I posed a new question to our Politics & Policy Daily readers: What book should be required reading for every senator and representative? We got an overwhelming number of responses, but here are a few of our favorites:
Martha Allen was the first of many to suggest Just Mercy, Bryan Stevenson’s widely acclaimed memoir detailing his career as a young lawyer, fighting against injustice in America’s criminal-justice system.
Another popular submission was The Prince, Niccolo Machiavelli’s 16th-century manual on manipulating your way to power. Thanks to Jerry Purmal for being the first to suggest it.
In case you’re curious: Michael Ignatieff examined The Prince more closely in his piece for The Atlantic back in December 2013, asking whether President Obama is “Machiavellian enough.”
One particularly thoughtful response came from Briauna Barrera:
If I could assign one book for every member of Congress to read (and perhaps everyone period) it would be Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer.
The book explores the current state of food systems in the US, and to a lesser extent the world, and the historical events that led up to its current status, its successes, and more importantly, its failures, shortcomings, and problems. However, Foer approaches the issue from the lens of being a new father and simply wanting to do what's best for his newborn son. He also grapples with being a son himself, and a grandson, and dealing with the emotional implications that meat has for him and his family (his grandmother was a Holocaust survivor who wastes nothing and shows her love through food).
I think if Congress would read this book, it would show that what we are doing with agriculture—the way we get our food, the way we interact with animals—isn’t sustainable and that something needs to be done now. This is connected to climate change, it’s connected to resource management, land use, population growth, the economy, everything. Food touches most—if not every—aspect of our lives. Beyond that, it’s deeply ingrained in our cultures, our nationalities, our religions, our lifestyles, our very psyches. This isn’t some writer preaching against meat, this is a data-rich narrative with plenty of complementary and opposing perspectives discussing this complex and complicated subject. This book is filled with just as much hard facts as it is feeling.
I’ve been grappling with my own ethical issues with eating meat for a while now and this book gave me words and concepts and facts for a lot of the feelings and abstract thoughts I’ve had. This isn’t a liberal issue or a conservative issue or a moderate issue or what have you. Ironically enough, eating meat, farming, our food systems, animal rights, they are all human issues. We are forced to confront our humanity and what we consider what it means to be human when dealing with eating animals. As hard as it is to face that, to confront it and name it and come to terms with it, it needs to happen and it needs to happen from all of us.
The presidential debates are fast-approaching, and last week, we asked who might make a good stand-in for Donald Trump in Hillary Clinton’s debate prep. This week, we turned the tables, asking our Politics & Policy Daily readers who could cleverly portray Clinton during Trump’s rehearsal. We had a handful of great responses, but here are our favorites:
Jane Curtin, suggested by Howard Cohen
Since Trump is liable to borrow the famous Dan Aykroyd line “Jane, you ignorant slut” from the old Saturday Night Live's “Weekend Update” segment (which was a parody of the old 60 Minutes “Point-Counterpoint” with Shana Alexander and James J. Kilpatrick), there is no one better to play Hillary than Jane Curtin.
“Crooked Hillary, you lying witch.”
"Donald, you go from giving Bill and the D’s money to running for president as a Republican while stiffing charities and your own contract workers...”
In the coming months, Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton will face off in what will surely be some of the most riveting television showdowns of all time. But many campaign watchers are wondering how Clinton is going to prepare for a debate with such a notoriously brash and unpredictable candidate. She is reportedly struggling with that question herself.
So this week, we asked readers to recommend who they think could artfully play Trump in a debate rehearsal. Turns out, you have given this a lot of thought, as nearly a hundred responses came in. Props to reader Marc Boissonneault for the winning suggestion of actor Alec Baldwin. You probably remember Baldwin from his role as wealthy businessman/news exec Jack Donaghy on NBC’s 30 Rock:
Alec Baldwin has the physical presence and acting ability to be a believable Trump. Also, he is smart and politically savvy, so he would know what Trump would say and how he would act. He would totally kill this gig.
But who else could take on Clinton without holding back?
Reader Alison Deck suggested actor Kevin Spacey because of his experience playing conniving politician Frank Underwood in House of Cards. Alison took us through her thought process:
First thought, Donald Duck: His scattershot, nonlinear speaking style; tendency toward gratuitous repetition; very dubious factual grounding. The “not wearing pants” thing probably too distracting, though.
I then considered Mel Gibson and Charlie Sheen; they’re clearly narcissists, after all. Each has had significant negative interactions with women, massive impulse-control issues, problems with substance abuse not dissimilar to Trump’s egomania (branding, incessantly referencing himself in both first and third person). Still, their personal lives/leanings tend to be such roller-coaster rides that compelling them to stay in “Donald” character (for 60-90 minutes!) might be just too much to expect.
So, ultimately, Kevin Spacey. He’s a gifted actor, has played an array of roles, all over the map really. His work on House of Cards may have given him some serious grounding in political skullduggery and at least peripheral understanding of policy. Surveying the roles he's taken on, he seems like a guy who'd be up for the challenge.”
Ultimately, the ideal debate sparring-opponent would be able to channel “The Donald” while not becoming sublimated to the schtick. I truly can think of no actual person in politics who could do this.
Hence, “The Kevin.”
Alison is right that “The Kevin” would probably play a phenomenal Trump. But would he have the guts to attack Clinton personally? Reader Dan Meyer thought that Triumph the Insult Comic Dog would be better. Here’s Triumph at this year’s Democratic National Convention:
But reader Chris McCann was less optimistic, saying that “one substitute, no matter how talented in his or her realization of Trumpness, will not capture the element that makes Trump Trump.” More from Chris:
The Clinton campaign should employ hundreds of folks who will love everything he says and a Trump substitute who will be fed on the love. It's the World Series, she's down 3 games to none, she's playing in her opponent’s stadium in front of an adoring fanbase—a fanbase that will roar approval every time he swings the bat, even when he misses.
Our newly revamped newsletter Politics & Policy Daily (formerly The Edge) started a new little feature on Monday, “Question of the Week.” In the inaugural entry, Elaine—who runs P&PD—asked:
Last week, Britain voted to break with the European Union—a decision known as “Brexit.” If the United States were to leave the United Nations, as Sarah Palin suggested, what would that exit’s nickname be?
Readers sent scores of submissions throughout the week, and today the Politics team picked a winner: Amerigo, submitted by Bob Kerr. The two runners-up are Conscious UN-coupling from Julian Ha and Saranara from Art Kane. Some honorable mentions:
Lee C. Fanshaw with my personal favorite: Yankxit
Barry Popik would text the United Nations: UNmeRnot2B
Chris Leggett goes social media: UN-friending
John Wetzel goes with the Italian word for “exit”: Uscita
Connor Phillips might be a servicemember: USAWOL
Kenny from California: USAway
Howard P. Cohen: USAloha!
Aloha indeed, and happy Fourth! When 240 years ago, Americans exited Britain.
(To sign up for Politics & Policy Daily, and to see what it looks like overall, go here. For the rest of our newsletter offerings, head here.)
Where the desperation of late-stage meritocracy is so strong, you can smell it
Editor’s Note: After The Atlantic published this article, new information emerged that has raised serious concerns about its accuracy, and about the credibility of the author, Ruth Shalit Barrett.
We have established that Barrett deceived The Atlantic and its readers about a section of the story that concerns a person referred to as “Sloane.” We are sharing with our readers what we have learned so far.
The original version of this article stated that Sloane has a son. Before publication, Sloane confirmed this detail to be true to The Atlantic’s fact-checking department. After publication, when a Washington Post media critic asked us about the accuracy of portions of the article, our fact-checking department reached out to Sloane to recheck certain details. Through her attorney, Sloane informed us that she does not, in fact, have a son. We have independently corroborated that Sloane does not have a son, and we have corrected the story to remove the reference to her having a son.
In explaining Sloane’s reasoning for telling our fact-checker she had a son, Sloane’s attorney told The Atlantic that she wanted to make herself less readily identifiable. Her attorney also said that according to Sloane, Barrett had first proposed the invention of a son, and encouraged Sloane to deceive The Atlantic as a way to protect her anonymity.
When we asked Barrett about these allegations, she initially denied them, saying that Sloane had told her she had a son, and that she had believed Sloane. The next day, when we questioned her again, she admitted that she was “complicit” in “compounding the deception” and that “it would not be fair to Sloane” to blame her alone for deceiving The Atlantic. Barrett denies that the invention of a son was her idea, and denies advising Sloane to mislead The Atlantic’s fact-checkers, but told us that “on some level I did know that it was BS” and “I do take responsibility.”
Sloane’s attorney claimed that there are several other errors about Sloane in the article but declined to provide The Atlantic with examples. Barrett says that the fabricated son is the only detail about which she deceived our fact-checkers and editors. Our fact-checking department is continuing to thoroughly recheck the article.
We have already corrected and clarified other details in the story. During the initial fact-checking process, we corroborated many details of Sloane’s story with sources other than Sloane. But the checking of some details of Sloane’s story relied solely on interviews and other communications with Sloane or her husband or both of them.
We have clarified a detail about a neck injury sustained by Sloane’s middle daughter, to be more precise about its severity. We have corrected a detail about a thigh injury, originally described as a deep gash but more accurately described as a skin rupture that bled through a fencing uniform. And we’ve corrected the location of a lacrosse family mentioned in the article: They do not live in Greenwich, Connecticut, but in another town in Fairfield County.
On October 22, we noted and corrected another error in the story: The article originally referenced Olympic-size backyard hockey rinks, but although the private rinks are large and equipped with floodlights and generators, they are not Olympic-size.
We are also updating Barrett’s byline. Originally, we referred to her as Ruth S. Barrett. When writing recently for other magazines, Barrett was identified by her full name, Ruth Shalit Barrett. (Barrett is her married name.) In 1999, when she was known by Ruth Shalit, she left The New Republic, where she was an associate editor, after plagiarism and inaccurate reporting were discovered in her work. We typically defer to authors on how their byline appears—some authors use middle initials, for example, or shorter versions of their given name. We referred to Barrett as Ruth S. Barrett at her request, but in the interest of transparency, we should have included the name that she used as her byline in the 1990s, when the plagiarism incidents occurred. We have changed the byline on this article to Ruth Shalit Barrett.
We decided to assign Barrett this freelance story in part because more than two decades separated her from her journalistic malpractice at The New Republic and because in recent years her work has appeared in reputable magazines. We took into consideration the argument that Barrett deserved a second chance to write feature stories such as this one. We were wrong to make this assignment, however. It reflects poor judgment on our part, and we regret our decision.
We are continuing to review this article. We will correct any errors we find, and we will communicate our findings to our readers as speedily as possible.
As the coronavirus spreads uncontrolled across the U.S., the president has gone from downplaying the pandemic to COVID denial.
The human brain makes decisions in two basic modes. One is analytic, which involves carefully weighing costs and benefits and choosing the best option. The other mode is intuitive: doing what feels right. Both have their merits. Intuitive thinking allows us to make split-second decisions. It helps guide our romantic lives and our lunchtime sandwich choices. But it is not the mode that should inform a strategic response to a pandemic.
Even casual observers of President Donald Trump’s mode of thinking long ago abandoned hope that he might embrace analytic reasoning (sometimes referred to simply as “science”). But if there were ever a possibility that he might at least come to terms with the power of the coronavirus, it would have been when it sent him to the hospital. Barely a month ago, recall, we had cause to speculate that the president might soon be dead. Although details of Trump’s illness remain concealed—including abnormalities in his chest CT scan and the date that he first tested positive for the virus—the known facts of his case indicate that it was not mild. He received supplemental oxygen to keep his red blood cells saturated, and he was prescribed dexamethasone, which is recommended only in serious cases.
Casting a ballot by Election Day is just the first thing Americans have to worry about. What if President Donald Trump and his allies stop the counting of ballots, or delay vote certification until Republican state legislatures can play hanky-panky with the electors? What if civil war breaks out? “We’ll take to the streets,” Joe Biden supporters tell one another. Isn’t that what people do?
Protesting is certainly what a lot of people will think of doing, and will do. It’s what Protect the Results, a coalition of more than 100 grassroots groups, is recommending, at least for now. Of the more than a dozen election-protection organizations that have popped up over the past two months, Protect the Results is probably the best-known. As of this writing, you can find more than 450 events around the country on its website, many scheduled for the day after the election. I signed up for one in New York City and got an email telling me to be ready to report to an address on Fifth Avenue on November 4 in the “highly likely” event that national protests will be necessary.
The president’s campaign is behind in polls and fundraising, but could still pull out a victory.
It was late in the evening at Hillary Clinton’s victory party in 2016, and by that point, the guests understood there would be neither a victory nor a party. As Donald Trump’s upset sank in among the hordes at the Javits Center in Manhattan, I asked one Clinton supporter how he was feeling. “Like I want to kill myself,” he said.
Later, at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, I stumbled upon a group of Clinton-campaign aides sitting together in tears. A tray of shots sat on the table before them. They shared a look of shock: How could this possibly have happened?
Trump trails Joe Biden by an average of eight points nationally, and is behind in every important battleground state. But his reelection still seems plausible, if only because 2016 seemed so implausible. “If I take my PTSD hat off, I can feel semi-comfortable about where things are,” Steve Schale, a Democratic strategist in Florida, told me. “But it’s impossible to take my PTSD hat off.”
More than 80 percent of Republicans think the president is doing a great job with the pandemic. Here’s why.
Kurtis, a young accountant in McKinney, Texas, likes the thing that many people hate about Donald Trump: that the president has left the pandemic response almost entirely up to local officials.
“He left it up to each state to make their own decision on how they wanted to proceed,” Kurtis told me recently. Most experts think the absence of a national strategy for tackling the coronavirus has been a disaster. But Kurtis argues that North Dakota, for example, shouldn’t have to follow the same rules as New York City. Kurtis voted for Trump in 2016, and he plans to do so again this year.
Some 82 percent of Republicans approve of Trump’s coronavirus response—a higher percentage than before the president was diagnosed with the virus. This is despite the fact that more than 220,000 Americans have died, and virtually every public-health expert, including those who have worked for Republican administrations, says the president has performed abysmally.
When The Office originally aired, its resident fool made for easy comedy. Fifteen years later, it’s hard to watch Dwight without seeing tragedy.
These are boom times for the lolsob. Watching the news, I sometimes find myself staring at the screen, eyes wide, brain broken, not sure whether to laugh or cry. The farce and tragedy tangle so tightly that it can be hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. How do you make sense, for example, of a leader who, in the midst of a deadly pandemic, muses about the curative powers of bleach? How do you process a president’s attempt to edit a hurricane with a Sharpie? The words, after a while, stop working. The categories collapse. Many true things have been written about what living under this regime feels like; one of the truest I’ve encountered is a 2017 prediction from the writer Hayes Brown: “This is going to be the dumbest dystopia.”
Stephanie Winston Wolkoff’s tell-all book about the first lady is as sordid as it is fascinating.
Stephanie Winston Wolkoff is one of those patriotic Americans who went to work in the Trump White House, only to come soaring back over the gates, rejected by the host organism. Like many before her, she decided to write a book about her experiences, Melania and Me: The Rise and Fall of My Friendship With the First Lady, and she proffers it to us as an act of public service, although possibly also as a comprehensive case for the defense if this whole acid trip ends up at The Hague. She is another member of Plastic Camelot, the ever-changing group of personal friends, celebrities, and weirdos whom the Trumps bring close to them and then, in the manner of bored kings, dispatch to the tombs. Maybe they’re no more disturbing a collection of advisers and jesters than the men and women on whom other presidents have depended. Who’s to say that Omarosa is so much worse than Henry Kissinger? She certainly has a better record on human rights.
“I want to feel hopeful about Joe Biden’s chances this year, but I just can’t,” my neighbor confessed to me, as we stood in line outside a coffee shop. What had begun as pleasant conversation—dogs, the temperature, clouds—had been pulled, through the vortex known as Late October in an Election Year, into an airing of political anxieties. “I’m still so afraid that 2016 is going to happen again and Trump is going to win,” she said.
Based on the sample size of my life, every Democrat feels this way. Yes, they’ll preface, the polls look all right for Biden. But four years ago, they looked good for Hillary Clinton too. And so, they fear, the horror film of 2016 is about to get its sequel.
There is a small chance that their fears will come true. But for the past few weeks, I’ve been stockpiling all of the quantitative reasons why the 2020 election is really, truly different from 2016, from new polling methodologies to fewer undecided voters. As always, do not allow any level of optimism (or pessimism) to guide your decision to vote. Just vote.
Anxious? Here are some of the best and most rewatch-friendly movies to soothe your mind.
Over the course of 2020, I’ve compiled several movie-recommendation lists for viewers who are at once in desperate need of distraction and yet never able to fully escape the year’s pressing realities. A global pandemic. Economic turmoil. An impending election showdown. Natural disasters. Police killings and unrelenting national protests. With movie theaters shut down around the world, I curated collections of films to watch at home—works that were unheralded upon release, took singular approaches to storytelling, or told stories about horror, government mistrust, and the end of the world.
But I think this fall season calls for lighter fare—movies that don’t make serious emotional or mental demands of you, that entice you to sink deeper into the couch and give yourself over to the screen. These films lend themselves best to multiple viewings (and eventual line-memorization). Everyone has their own personal list of “comfort movies,” but the films I rewatch the most have no particular theme or genre. Some of the movies that relax me the most are intense action epics, while others are quiet conversational comedies. Comfort movies don’t have to be low energy or low stakes to be soothing; they simply have to evoke a certain mood or atmosphere, or transport viewers to a world they’ll want to revisit. Below are 25 of my own favorite feel-good watches, films I cue up again and again whenever I need a brief break from the world.
The GOP is in danger of losing an entire system of political control.
I doubted that Mitch McConnell could do it, but he did. With only a week remaining before Election Day, McConnell crammed through the confirmation of a sixth conservative justice to the U.S. Supreme Court. The people who tally such things reckon that Amy Coney Barrett is the first justice since 1869 to receive not a single vote from the minority party in the Senate.
It was a move of raw power. But it was also motivated by raw desperation.
Polls suggest Republicans are facing defeat in the 2020 races, and probably by big margins. Joe Biden and Donald Trump are neck and neck in Georgia and Texas, nobody’s previous idea of swing states. Republican senators are at risk not only in Maine and Colorado, but also in Iowa and even Kansas.