A Star Is Born

Dear you,

Good morning, 2/27/2022.  I woke to some good news; the Ukrainians pushed Russian troops out of Kharkiv and now have regained control of their second largest city.  Yes!  But then again, there was also news about Pooty Putin doing something nuclear.  Putting his nuke handlers on high alert or whatever.  Here we go again.  Flashback to childhood and those drills.  At least this time I am sixty something instead of six and nobody can make me duck and cover under my DESK.  Seriously, even a six-year-old knew this was a pointless thing to do. Those Alabama pine, lift-top desks did offer helpful graffiti warnings such as “Patsy Digby smells like baloney” and “Mr. Guthrie is a pervert”, but effective protection against nuclear radiation?  Um, no.  But I digress, back to Ukraine and the topic of “a star is born”.  Yes indeed, we (well, the civilized and attractive among us) are in love with their President, Volodymyr Zelensky (Zelenskyy/Zelenskky, lots of different spellings appear in media reports; Americans aren’t good with consonant overload).

Beautiful and badass, he has been praised globally.  My favorite Twitter comment this week:

“Going from a comedian on tv to staring down Russia tanks, planes, choppers, and bombs and you don’t even blink is the most gangster shit I’ve ever seen in my life.” (@BlackKnight10k)

And then there was Z’s response to our suggestion that he evacuate Kyiv with our assistance, “I need ammunition, not a ride.”

Now that is some gangster shit.  I have such a crush on this man.  And a respect-crush on another star of the week, Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson.  Stellar legal history and untouchable in terms of character.  But the GOP will do its best to twist her record since she probably doesn’t like beer.  She will be on the court.  They can say what they want; she’ll handle it.  Like Zelensky, she won’t blink. However, it has got to be daunting to take on a job like that.  SCOTUS.  No expiration date assigned.  Just her and the other eight, twenty-four seven.  Of course, Judge Jackson is undaunted.  But I enjoyed The Onion’s satirical riff about her imaginary doubts:

. . .  “in the hours after learning she had been chosen as the first black woman to be nominated to the U.S. Supreme Court, Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson reportedly weighed making history against the soul-crushing thought of spending time with these people.  ‘Of course, sitting on the highest court in the land would be a tremendously meaningful position for someone like me to hold, but then again, it just kills me inside – absolutely kills me – to think of spending any time at all with these people,” Jackson said on Friday, furrowing her brow as she considered the symbolic impact of her elevation to the Supreme Court alongside the sheer deadening idea of seeing Neil Gorsuch’s stupid fucking face every day for the better part of the next half century.”

Better Neil than Brett.

Satire aside, Judge Jackson is on the record for this declaration from a 2019 decision: “Presidents are not kings.”  That is a judicial point of view we dearly need now, having barely survived a previous would-be king who is still lurking about . . . like Pooty and pervy Mr. Guthrie.

Anyway, this week had its shining moments.  President Z and Judge J, they won’t blink. They make me feel safer, momentarily not compelled to hide under a metaphorical desk.  Sure, nobody can save me from dictators with nukes or Patsy’s body odor, but Zelensky and Jackson give me inspirational badass ammunition.  Two stars in our partly-cloudy 2022 skies.

Cue applause.

Joyce