A lot has changed since the coronavirus hit America. We met Dr. Anthony Fauci, America’s real life McDreamy and head of the C—wait, not the CDC? Is it the WHO? No—wait, what? We pulled out of the WHO?! Jesus…Well, it’s basically something like the CDC—and Dr. Deborah Birx, who’s spent months sending us all secret messages encoded in colorful scarves.
A body-builder-wannabe Boomer walks into Caffe Latte, boasting of his recent travels across Europe and Asia as evidence of his immunity to COVID-19. Continue reading #Disspatch: Caffe Latte, 8 May 2020
As a middle-aged white woman with socially progressive but fiscally conservative politics and a fashionably cosmopolitan sensibility, I have spent the last two years aggressively surveying the media landscape, honing my editorial voice, waiting for my moonshot. Some nights I lie awake in bed imagining my name immortalized in print, anticipating Maureen Dowd’s looming retirement or Jennifer Rubin’s untimely death.