"It’s a sign of how acrid things have got that Biden’s main tactic is simply to put his opponent in prison."

"I don’t like Trump any more than the next person, but hauling him up in a criminal court is Third World stuff. Who cares he said the election was 'stolen'? Every politician says that when they lose. Hillary Clinton did: is Biden going to 'lock her up'? As for the dodgy dealings in Biden’s family, they’re always obfuscated, hidden, tidied away. Hunter’s laptop, the stuff with Burisma and with China, the crack, the hookers, the affair with his dead brother’s widow. An objective person cannot be shocked by the complaints against Trump while not being horrified by any of this."

Writes Camilla Long (in the London Times). I thought that was nicely concise. It's about how I feel. I especially like "Who cares he said the election was 'stolen'?" And the sly use of Trump's own "lock her up."

NOTE: You need to scroll to the bottom of the column to see this material. Most of the column is about Lizzo (blogged 2 post down).

"The world Lizzo has built around herself is essentially a cult: it’s dependent on everyone thinking the same extreme, bizarre, contradictory things as she does."

"You find it a lot nowadays: in the arts; politics, obviously; even in banks, for God’s sake. People rush to reinforce warped thought systems, like the pathetic Beyoncé, who has constantly sucked up to Lizzo, chasing the fat dollar. Until last week, of course, when the allegations came out, and then it was as if Lizzo had died: no regular shout-out from Beyoncé on her tour any more."

Writes Camilla Long, in "If you sign up to work in the seedy world of Lizzo, you must expect some XXXL lunacy" (London Times).

"On the one hand we have the blandest pap imaginable — superhero movies and Adele — and on the other we have Netflix and its mindless death porn...."

"It feels, actually, as if we’re going backwards. The playful cheesecake Marilyn of the 1950s — a confected blonde bimbo that this film clearly despises — seems infinitely preferable to the Marilyn of 70 years later: a haggard, weeping cipher and shivering perma-victim who is obsessed with the contents of her womb. In an attempt to 'explain' Marilyn, the makers have simply created another pathetic object: a woman who spends the entire film either naked or in tears, or both.... She can barely touch a drink without getting wasted; barely get in a car without crashing it.... Is this where victim culture has led us.... Schoolgirls are told that they ought to be crippled by their periods. Female celebrities scramble to be defined by menopause, the horrors of pregnancy or, even better, miscarriage. On podcasts, in interviews and in articles otherwise intelligent, capable women moan about their lives collapsing, or being unable to cope with even the tiniest sliver of adversity: they are all like Marilyn on a date with DiMaggio at a perfectly nice restaurant: 'I’m afraid of some of the people here.' Marilyn had more power when she was a plain sex object, giggling on the cover of Playboy." 

Writes Camilla Long, in "Every generation has its own Marilyn. Our one gets drugged and raped. Thanks, Netflix" (London Times).