Three days in Washington this week afforded the opportunity to read one of the country’s great newspapers (and about its new Jeff Bezos-appointed publisher) over my croissant and coffee and smear myself with printer’s ink. Not the same experience as online.
I read the discouraging Washington Post coverage of the state of affairs in Ukraine, and it offered a special section on Obama and Putin, which I brought home to read on a day when my blood pressure might be dropping. I’d just read David Remnick’s long piece in The New Yorker about the travails of former Russian ambassador Michael McFaul and wasn’t ready for more from Vlad the Unveiler (think bare-chested photos).
I read about the disastrous state of the Ebola outbreak and thought about how last year Neil’s 3-hour stay in the outpatient surgery unit of a new hospital in our area produced a bill well in excess of $20,000. That was for use of the room (no doctor fees—those were extra—no lab tests, no x-rays) and a carton of cranberry juice. What the struggling and filthy hospitals in West Africa could do with one day’s take from that facility! Or any U.S. hospital.
The second beheading of an American journalist, looking bravely forward while his assassins covered their faces, as well they might.
The continued intransigence of all sides in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, rushing deeper and deeper into a labyrinth that would appear to have no way out.
The Justice Department and Ferguson. Police forces in U.S. cities I’ve never heard of armed better than some countries.
Inevitably, the Post covered stories about people considering a 2016 Presidential run. I could only guess they’re not reading the same newspaper I did!