No family gathering is complete without at least three political discussions so passionate they clear the room. To aid you at your forthcoming Thanksgiving feast, here is a proposed list of timely dinner topics, sure to make your evening a night to remember.
Inflation? Yay or nay?
Does Joe Biden sniff women? Or do women sniff Joe Biden?
Jeff Bezos, or Elon Musk?
Bernie Sanders, or Elon Musk?
What’s Mike Pence up to these days?
Can cryptocurrency be most likened to the Holland tulip bulb mania of the 1630s?
Was Aaron Rodgers immunized?
Airline seats – to recline, or not to recline?
Meghan Markle versus Piers Morgan.
Janet Jackson versus Justin Timberlake.
Britney Spears versus Justin Timberlake.
Britney Spears versus Christina Aguilera.
Britney Spears versus all of the other Spears.
Is Benedict Cumberbatch hot?
Wired headphones? Or wireless headphones? What’s cool now?
Did Epstein kill himself?
The ecclesiastical calendar, subdivided by the difference between All Saints Day and All Souls Day.
The pros and cons of Kamala Harris’ laugh.
Is Jennifer Lawrence hot?
Is Justin Bieber a good singer?
Turkey and gravy soda – a genius invention, or a monstrosity inflicted upon man?
The First Amendment.
The Second Amendment.
The Third Amendment.
Nicolas Cage’s acting career – please submit responses in the form of a dissertation.
Why is everything so expensive?
I, for one, look forward to discussing the elusive sex appeal of Pete Davidson, whether or not Joe Biden’s neurologic exam was honest and above board, and to finally resolve, once and for all, whether aliens are invading Hawaii.
Sarah Brown is, what her grandmother would call, an instigator. Tweet her @BrownsClose1 or email her at firstname.lastname@example.org. “Close” is a British term for alley or cul-de-sac.
It’s the end of January. I gave it some time. I, like my 7.8 billion fellow Earthlings, looked forward to 2021 with good spirits. With the turn of the calendar, we all could usher out the most outlandish year in modern history.
There’s an old Yiddish saying. It goes, “Man Plans, and God Laughs.”
Once again, the joke is on us. 2021 is merely an extension of 2020.
The year started off lamely enough with the announcement of the death of Bond Girl, Tanya Roberts. Normally, there would not be anything unusual about that, except that Tanya Roberts was very much alive. Once this was established, she died for real.
Then there was the dissolution of the marriage of Kim Kardashian and Kanye West. As a lifelong follower of Kanye’s work , I was saddened, but not entirely surprised. The divorce was reported a scant two months after Kanye gave Kim a hologram of her deceased father, Robert Kardashian, as a birthday present.
Kim and Kanye, however, were promptly upstaged. The next day, a mob of Trump supporters stormed the U.S. Capitol building, where they broke into Statuary Hall, and proceeded to march around in neat lines within the confines of the velvet dividers. Things descended into bedlam, however, when the invaders began pooping in the hallways.
Out of this stinky rubble, we met a few characters who have since become national folk legends. Most notably, there’s “The QAnon Shaman,” (so dubbed by The Daily Mail) who after donning fur, horns, and face paint for the Capitol siege, has since refused prison food because it is not vegan. Learning this surprised me; if ever there were a group of people I assumed were big time meat eaters, it was the MAGA crowd.
And speaking of QAnon, I’ve learned a lot about this society in recent weeks. Before, I was never entirely sure what the group believed, other than that it was a “loosely organized …community… who embrace a range of unsubstantiated beliefs” (per The Wall Street Journal).
I’ve come a long way since this vague interpretation. I now know that QAnon thinks the Chinese military is massing at the Canadian border, and that furniture company Wayfair uses product listings to send secret messages concerning human trafficking. Supporters also maintain the closely held belief that Tom Hanks is a cannibal.
At a more innocent time in my life, I would have thought all of this totally bonkers. But I now have to give it pause. As of mid-January, there is a celebrity who is a confirmed cannibal, it’s just not Tom Hanks. Multiple women have come forward accusing Hollywood A-List actor, Armie Hammer, of anthropophagy. One former flame claimed he used to suck her blood, another that he branded her, and still another that he designs his own bondage attire. Other screenshots of texts to paramours, allegedly from Armie Hammer, go into detail about wanting to eat them, and not in the traditional way.
I’ve never had the pleasure of receiving a text message from Armie Hammer, or one of his famous requests to remove and barbeque my ribs. Instead, I must settle for my own peculiar correspondence. Not to be gainsaid, a stranger emailed me on Jan. 25 in response to this column, published fourteen months ago. The unsolicited message detailed the many years of life he’s spent in therapy because he likes to wear women’s underwear.
Those of us who expected life to go back to normal at the stroke of midnight on Jan. 1 were sorely mistaken. It’s going to be a long hard road back to sanity.
Sarah Brown resides in a bunker in Oklahoma. Only there can she find some godd*mn peace. Clearly, she is forced to check email occasionally, so, if you really must, you can reach her at email@example.com, and on Twitter @BrownsClose1. “Close” is a British term for alley or cul-de-sac.
As with every other extracurricular activity during the COVID-19 pandemic, Halloween will assuredly be dampened this year. I am not the first person to note the irony; Halloween is a holiday based entirely on the idea that everyone should wear a mask.
Will Anchorage’s new mayor issue a municipal wide ban on live Halloween, as the old mayor did with live music?
Will anyone host Halloween parties?
Will anyone else attend?
Will families go trick-or-treating?
Is trick-or-treating a socially distanced activity?
Should I just leave a basket of candy out on the porch and call it quits when one small marauder takes it all?
Is bobbing for apples illegal?
Should it be?
Should we wear masks in the water while bobbing for apples?
Will people dress up in costume?
What will be the top costume of choice?
If we assume Halloween will not be stricken from the calendar, and that there will be costumes, and that people will dress up in them, below are the clear favorites for the Most Desirable Halloween Costume of 2020:
For those who remained single before, during, and after quarantine –
Top Singles Costumes for Halloween 2020:
The Karen – Karen with bobbed hair, crow’s feet, and a bitter expression, has already been dubbed “the scariest Halloween costume of 2020,” by Good Morning America;
Hunter Biden – all you need is a crack pipe and a wire transfer. No shirt required;
Mask-ed Vigilantes – no obligation to separate along party lines here. This costume can be applied to both pro, and anti, mask vigilantes.
For those who managed to find love, despite quarantine –
Top Couples Costumes for Halloween 2020:
Pilots and flight attendants;
A pair of Sheeple;
Donald Trump and Joe Biden;
Amy Coney Barrett and Ruth Bader Ginsburg;
Hydroxychloroquine and Remdesivir.
And for the rarest life form of all, those who managed to maintain friendships despite quarantine, and subsequent highly charged political events–
Top Group Costumes for Halloween 2020:
The cast of Tiger King:
Fraudster Jeff Lowe;
Pony-tailed polygamist Bhagavan Antle;
Stool pigeon Howard Baskin;
Victim and tiger feed, Don Lewis.
The cast of General Hospital:
The cast of former Anchorage Mayor, Ethan Berkowitz’s sex scandal:
Ethan Berkowitz dressed in a backless suit and carrying a selfie stick;
Molly Blakey, intermittently dispensing booze and cookies;
The escort known as Rae – She’s mysterious, so costumes are open to interpretation.
The cast of Current Events, not to exclude:
Exodus (sometimes known as Brexit);
The Apocalypse – This can be subdivided into the Four Horsemen, and One Woman, of the Apocalypse:
The cast of a Zoom meeting:
A thermos of vodka;
The Mute Button.
The cast of Cancel Culture:
The New York Times;
Broadway show, Hamilton;
And, of course, The Founders.
I myself choose not to rank costumes, but shall instead dress up as everything. On Halloween, you will find me isolated indoors eating cookies and drinking vodka out of my favorite tiger mug. Photos of Mount Rushmore will cycle repeatedly on the television, and I will don my beloved pair of fluffy sheep slippers. I will then promptly miss the mute button as I talk on the phone while doing a highly personal activity.
Every year, Sarah Brown celebrates Halloween with maximum enthusiasm. This year, she can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org, and on Twitter @BrownsClose1. “Close” is a British term for alley or cul-de-sac.