A highest award of honor because

  it is one of the most difficult things to do: confront a superior in the ranks and maintain the stance that (i)you are not acting appropriately(i), and in this instance, (i)I have to balance that with defending our Country(i). 

It's what people were so angry about, out past

  (i)we're here(i). 

  But the facts of bridge-building often prove human capacity to span gaps a disasterous affair. 

"You know there are other orbits."

   This was like somebody saying at college, (i)there's this thing called identity politics,(i) or, (i)there's something called (i)critical race theory(i).  It was like fresh air let into a room.  The elections were over.  In my mind's eye I looked at the floor and "saw" an empty wrestling mat. 

  I was definitely having an immediate reaction of both separation anxiety and the loss of power that happens when people split up.  (i)Just a voter now(i).  Made sense because I hadn't run for anything, I'd been learning about it all as a journalist.  I did understand it better so that had me feeling more a part of it, but... 

  You're either in an office or not.  In theory there's governor and governed.  But what about governance itself?  Observing but not participating.  Minds had wrestled with this some in thinking about "objectivity" and "activism". 

  That was a crux of the matter in what seemed like a phase of journalism...to be subjective or not in writing a piece.  Tom Wolf's (i)Vroooooom(i); the people reporting a story have their own ears and eyes and sensations about an event.  This blossomed from (i)personal journalism(i) into (i)literary journalism(i) for some. 

  What was striking me about elections over was really similar to an experience I'd had in grammar school.  I'd been privileged to attend a Catholic parochial school, maintained as a fortress of values and safety and learning.  My mom already had a lot of children by the time it was time for me to do SEX ED.  A controversy in and of itself.  And as tensions kept growing about it, mom and I realized something like (i)people ruin everything(i).  Mom was almost going to (i)just say no(i) or opt out, but was intrigued about chromosomes.  She and my Dad had worked really hard to get healthy for that last birth (not as easy in times of stress and strife), and by number six, mom was at a place where she was curious about the Science of it all in addition to how she was running her home.  So I had to take it.  But I got to share the information.  This made for some thought-provoking conversations in which we were better able to think about the Bible and real life.  Helped us relate to Biblical characters.  And kept us developing that practice of weaving our religion with world. 

"Sir, what are you doing out here?"

  "Please, uh, just call me George.  And this is my wife." 

  "Nice to meet you." 

  Offered a cigarette, wife said, "We quit really." Husband grimaced. 

  "What are you doing out here?" 

  "We just said goodbye to Viktor." 

  Shivers for the lightweight, not warm, professional clothing. 

  "I'm a little overwhelmed myself," George admitted. 

  "It's a lot to take on," his wife supported. 

  "Yeah, I'll say.  Especially now that the FCC stuff is coming up.  I think since most people don't really ever think about broadcasting, they're freaked out about licensing." 

  "Prob'ly true." 

  "Then it's more grist for the rumormill.  Thing that gets me about it all is that no one's wanting to put the quash on rock and roll, but when a Rolling Stones' tune comes in over landing cargo plane speakers in the fog, it kinda sucks." 

  "I bet." The husband took a pager number down on a little memo notebook page rested on his wife's arm.  "We're gonna need to call back." 

  "There's phones set up in the 

  Together they made way back into the orbit of the White House. 

 Public media freedom has been eroded across central Europe. Now Czechs are rallying to protect theirs https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/nov/14/protests-grow-czechia-changes-public-media-funding?CMP=share_btn_url

  Great stuff to have conversations about! 

  Even back in the early 1990's we were navigating rigid lines of communication as artists, writers, intellects, and governance so there's amazing through-line on these issues. 

"Okay, okay," and she did put it down.

  "You can't keep it.  My mom got it for me." 

  "Unlike my rented shoes," the woman looked down at her barefeet. 

  "Who let the thugs in?" 

  "They want the rental furniture." 

  "How's your day?" 

  "Seriously?" 

  "Put all that on that table," a woman ordered.  

  "Well, here we are.  When I said (i)meet my mother(i) this is not what (i)I(i) had in mind." 

  "Go!" 

  "Where?" 

  "To your old room.  Get yourself UN-half neked." 

  "Look, I think I know what happened." 

  "Your father is (i)angry with you(i).  I'd put on non-trashy clothing." 

  "Professional, not trashy." 

  "Same thing where you been (i)supposedly(i) working." 

  The girl came back in a sweatshirt, her father's team. 

  "What do (i)you think(i) happened?" 

  "Well, it got a lil out of control.  Not sharing outfits, but renting outfits out to get lunch money." 

  "Who's going to pay the bill?" 

  "Not sure." 

  "What else?" 

  Quiet.  The mom putting grapefruits into a cupboard.  She turned and rocked the grapefruit in her hand, not exactly pointing at the girl.  "I know you always have more than one thing going on in that head of yours." 

  The girl got on the floor and said loudly to under the couch, "They're still here." She pulled out an alligator slipper.  "Of course they are," the mom said. 

  "Can I have a grapefruit?" 

  "The cost went up again." 

  The girl turned out sweatpant pockets.  "I'll buy us one.  How much m'am?" 

  "Cost me almost two, so two and twenty-five." 

  "Don't you even have a quarter?" 

  A vigorous headshake (i)no(i).  Heavy ponytail. 

  "Sugar?" 

  "Just a little." 

  "Pretty much a lot can't be said.  Revealing sources and all." 

  "Yeah." 

  "Wow. Real grapefruit spoons.  My mom has these too." 

  "We didn't steal yours." 

  "Awkward." 

  Cups for the juice. 

  "Better?" 

  A sigh.  "I remembered something else on the way here." 

  "Do tell." 

  "I think I may have used the wrong word with someone." 

  "Someone like who?" 

  "Ashtray." 

  "He's pretty cool when he's not quarterbacking." 

  Quiet.  "Clean up the table when you're finished." The mom turned out the light as she was leaving the room. 

  "What word?" 

  "(i)Compromised(i)." 

  "How did you mean it?" 

  "Okay, so, you know how (i)they(i) make a kill circle?" 

  "Like around a sub?" 

  "Yeah.  Or around the guy to protect." 

  "Yeah." 

  "I was trying, in a rush, to explain that most of my friends are feeling compromised.  'Cuz, it, it's like, protecting that guy," a point at a guy on a book jacket, "yeah?" 

  "Well it seems like it goes against everything (i)my people(i) have been hoping for." 

  "Okay, I get that.  But this is the Hill.  First of all we have no (i)friends(i).  And secondly, like we are compassed about by enemies who only know the English, (i)Death to America(i)." 

  "Is that a talking point? I heard it on the radio too." 

  "Are all, uh, colors of people your people?" 

  "Oh my God.  You gotta move your car, my Dad's back.  That's not good." 

"Why is your cross or whatever (i)plain(i)?"

  The man looked at it hanging on the wall.  He looked at all the people on the floor of his condo-like place.  And he looked at the woman looking at him.  In his pajamas.  And she was already ready for the day.  He reached for his bathrobe and as he was donning it he asked, "Why does your friend go with an asshole or whatever?" People started to stir at the sound of talking. 

  "You first." 

  "Is there coffee?" 

  "At a coffeeshop." 

  "It's been a bit of a briefcase exchange," a woman said of having some new leads.  "So I better start checking these out." 

  Relentlessly beautiful, so the attempts to bed were relentless. 

  "Newspapers made this all easier." 

  "How so?" 

  "We could just post a mugshot of a freak and everybody would see it, talk about it, maybe do something about it.  Now nobody who's anybody sits around watching all these TV channels." 

  "That's why some of us have been pounding the pavement." 

  "Have it upstairs by ten." 

  "Because Jesus beat death.  (i)Rose from the dead(i)." 

  "Because she goes with a mu," 

  "PERSON who wants her to stay traditional," another woman interjected. 

"Even if that is the truth we can't go with it."

  A man listed the reasons why not.  Right at the top of the list was a nausea-producing rivalry that shouldn't have existed.  The disparity between total control and controlled chaos had grown.  In that mix was a terrible chance for confusion, lack of clarity, and a subtle but potent (i)fuck you then(i).  

  The man's eyes turned icey when he realized something had gone awry with a command. 

  "We're going to have to talk about this." 

  "Who did this?" 

  "Was it spliced?" 

  "Which one is the real news?" 

  Both media were "reporting" a shooting on the mall.  The actual news had sent a reporter to a scene that showed "normal", if there had been somebody shooting a gun, no one there at the time had seen or reported the incident.  Another "news" was witnessing an entirely different reality unfolding.  Both marked (i)news(i), both caught in a twisting between propaganda and reality. 

  "Just turn it off.  We need to sleep." 

"Maw, maw, maw," "the man's eyes

  were buggin," the two people that had carried the man, hands under armpits, into "the shelter", called and called for "a little help please". 

  "Wait, what is he trying to say?" Asked a woman people had seen around, but nobody could say they knew anybody even if they did. 

  "Maybe the guy wants his mother," said an NG who'd been bussed from Brownsville. 

  The man was clearly stuck on trying to say something.  "Wait, don't leave," but the human carriers rested the man in a corner and did leave. 

  "They'll be back," someone said as they stole the man's watch.  "Why would you say that?" The woman asked.  "I wouldn't steal from a guy having a heart attack; would you?" The NG wrestled the man's wallet from his pants pocket.  "Find out who he is," he told the woman.  She slipped out the door. 

"The Chinese shoot last."

  "Oh, so they've teamed up against America have they?" Asked a British submarine man. 

  "What does that mean?" 

  "It's kinda gross." 

  "You need to tell us." 

  "Enemies use every ounce of info and pound of flesh they get a hold of." 

  "You mean cah," two people put sweaty hands over the person's face to prevent the person from saying the word and having more people in the broom closet.  More people would mean more troubles. 

  "It also means cats will play with mice even after they're dead but the cats aren't hungry." 

  "Talk about disinformation.  The dead American said (i)blah, blah, blah(i)." 

  "And (i)yaddah, yaddah,(i) I gotta go." 

"Put the skeletons back in the closet," an older Stateswoman

  warned the few young people still creeping around and cut-throating.  By then it was "on the street" that a war was on.  Even the "cause people" folded it up and started to clear out of D.C. 

  "Am I crazy?" 

  "Nobody has suggested anyone ask that question.  This has been a fork in the wheel, this bunch." 

  "But what about (i)diversity(i)?" 

  "What about it?  If that's your thing, (i)go do it(i).  These are (i)traditional(i) people at the helm now." 

  "Put that in (i)Special Interest(i)." Eventually the bin of special interest overflowed.  And Recycling wasn't really real. 

  "Miss you." 

  (i)PROcedurally then, you'll all have three minutes.(i) The Court's group had sent someone over. 

  Downturned eyes, looks of no hope, clear bags holding belongings.  

  "Start editing." 

  "Why do you have fifty folders?" 

  "Stay focused." 

  A cellphone ringing. 

  "Why are you calling me?" 

  "You're father is dying." 

  "Are you going to the hospital?" 

  "It wouldn't do either of us any good at this point." 

  "Speaking of parents, I really need to check on mine." 

  "Take the rest of the day off."