My new “Think Again” column is called “CNN: America’s Easiest ‘Ref?’ (Just Ask the Tea Party)” and it’s here.
My Nation column is called “The Problem of Media Stupidity” and it’s here.
And in The Daily Beast, I address the arguments that the Jews are going Republican, yet again, and it’s called “Don’t Sweat the Jewish Vote,” here.
Pierce News: A great many people have inquired about what has happened to the great Charles Pierce and why he no longer hangs around in our neighborhood. I have felt badly about the fact that the great man asked me to keep quiet about all this. I probably still should. But I am thrilled to pass along this: The great man has parted ways with The Boston Globe. He informs us that “Starting at the end of this month I will be a) the lead writer of the Politics Blog at esquire.com and b) a columnist at Grantland, Bill Simmons’s new sports site… Left, loud and snarky awaits!”
I went to see “Sleep No More,” last week. It is an incredibly elaborate and imaginative production. As Ben Brantley wrote in the Times, these “three abandoned warehouses on West 27th Street to enact the sorry sights of the murderous Macbeths’ career in a movable orgy titled “Sleep No More.” And the resulting adventure in décor — a 1930s pleasure palace called the McKittrick — suggests what might have happened had Stanley Kubrick (of “Eyes Wide Shut” and “The Shining”) been asked to design the Haunted Mansion at Disney World, with that little old box maker Joseph Cornell as a consultant.”
Thing is, I didn’t like it. First off, I’ve never been asked by a theater to stand on line for an hour (in the pouring rain) before when I already had tickets. I’m not a club kid. Second, I know MacBeth reasonably well and gave myself a refresher course, but I still couldn’t make any sense of the thing. I was never fully sure of who I was following or why. (There are no words.) I like seeing naked and half naked beautiful women dancing around but no so much when they are in pain or covered with blood. It is shocking and surprising and like nothing else I’ve ever seen, but nothing I really wanted to see either. Saving grace, however, was a terrific jazz band playing in a bar, all night, inside the production somewhere. I had a couple of drinks that came with the tickets and listened to some wonderful old jazz—one of the more interesting interpretations of “Over the Rainbow” I’ve ever heard, and managed to leave in a good mood. It may be that I’m just too old, however, since I appeared to have a few decades on most of the audience.