Summer's almost gone, but romance is still in the air over Pennsylvania Avenue. Nancy Pelosi's dancing the night away with the devil at the White House, and Chuck Schumer, the chaperone, is making himself right at home on Donald Trump's sofa. That's Mitch McConnell sitting off to the side by himself, trying to figure out whether to look chagrined or cheery. Or at least not as superfluous as he feels.
Hillary Clinton is the ultimate gift that keeps on giving. And giving. And giving.
Scenting blood, some of the Democrats dreaming of success in the midterm congressional elections are beginning to talk sense. The season of insult and abuse of the president is winding to a close, not because of regrets but the party grown-ups have concluded that making asses of themselves doesn't work.
If words were bullets, the crazy fat kid in Pyongyang would have been dead a long time ago, with his ample carcass on display now within a shrine of marble, plaster and tears. But under that goofy haircut there's a brain that is not so crazy at all.
It's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and the wind blowing past the graveyard of dead generals is making some clever, cynical people very rich.
A president's pardoning power is absolute, as every judge knows, and just as absolute is the certainty that every pardon will be met by a hail of hosannas and a howl of complaint and grievance from someone.
The daily newspaper was not so long ago the king of the mountain, only to become in many places a pale, wrinkled princeling with tired blood, run over by not-so-great entertainers and pipsqueak purveyors of the shallow and the silly -- and sometimes the fake -- on the internet. As the president might say, "sad."
We owe Chicken Little an apology. Maybe the sky really is falling. Evidence is everywhere. Cries and whimpers suddenly grow deafening as the landscape is dusted with snowflakes, who imagine they're unique and have in common with other snowflakes only an extremely low melting point.
Union scouts have already discovered Robert E. Lee at the gates of the city, lining up the gallant Pelham's artillery to fire the opening round, and Stonewall Jackson and Jeb Stuart are expected to arrive on a night train from the Shenandoah Valley.
The media mob wasted no time in descending on Charlottesville, and the first order of business was to exploit the bigotry, tragedy and evil to make it the work of the Republicans, conservatives, and above all, Donald Trump.
Who knew that Kim Jong-un and his distinguished generals grew their skin so thin?
Life is tough, as the man said, and three out of three people die. It's apparently a lot worse than we thought. The world is coming apart at the seams, just like the naysayers said it would. Times have got so tough that you can't even trust fake news.
There's new news that Robert Mueller has expanded his investigation again into Whatever, and has empaneled a grand jury to indict someone once he and his team of expensive lawyers can find someone to indict.
It's early yet, and first impressions are sometimes misleading. But not often. John Kelly looks like the best appointment President Trump has made since he named Neil Gorsuch to the U.S. Supreme Court.
The Army and the other military services can do a lot of things, and never flinch when the nation calls. Now, Donald Trump to the contrary notwithstanding, the services have been "tasked" to make women and transgendered people feel better about their place in society. Isn't that what an army's for?
It's time to beat up on the Jews again, particularly the Jews in Israel and the West Bank. Once more they're not standing still enough to enable the Palestinians to maim and kill.
A lot of snakes and scorpions live with the alligators in the swamp, and there are even more dangerous monsters there. No swamp creature is deadlier than a Washington lawyer.
Pity the poor presidents. It's not enough for presidents to deal with enemies foreign and domestic, conduct warfare with Congress and dispense lollipops. Sometimes they have to deal with "help" from sons, daughters, brothers, in-laws and other hangers-on to the bully furniture at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
The Donald finally caught a break in Paris, basking in rare Franco-American bonhomie as he joined the new president of France on Bastille Day, this year to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the American arrival on the battlefields of World War I.
We're finally getting somewhere. Dead horses are useless to most folks, but Democrats, rendering plants and certain newspapers are determined to follow the stink.
