Looking for a subject

I spent most of the morning scanning the headlines, looking for a suitable subject to share with you, my darling readers. Couldn't find one. I don't want to talk about anything. Not about Lindsay Lohan's rehab redux, not about Hugo Chavez strongarming the soap opera and dreck purveyors in his country, not about the fact that American soldiers in Iraq are being killed by the same people they are training and they are starting to be very fed up (what's taking them so long?); not about that weird David Remnick assertion in the New Yorker that The Sopranos is a comedy. That really is news to me. I thought and hoped it is a tragedy. But maybe Remnick has seen the last episode, where Carmela and Tony live happily ever after, without punishment or legal persecution. It seems rather unlikely, no?
Not about the fact that Miss USA fell on her ass and was loudly booed by the Mexico City audience at the Miss Universe Pageant (another strong indication that there is no God, only Donald Trump). The reason for the booing: the appalling immigration debacle here in the States. The reason for falling on her ass: a perfectly good example of an apt metaphor. That's how we are these days. Falling on our ass, everybody in the world hurling scorn and derision at us (more than the usual, I mean).