Iris

 

May 7, 2021

Day, cool and bright. The iris are coming into full glory, along with the peonies. I paid less attention than I might to graduations and harmonizations of color in the garden. It’s gaudy, like a burning dye factory.

Most of the last week spent revising and sending out plays. I was happy. 

L’s adoration of Trump seems not to be political, but based on the notion that he is a new and budding Christian and he should be given the benefit of the doubt because he is Christian, and that all attacks on him are anti-Christian. Of all descriptions of Trump, “Christian” seems to me the most ludicrous, unless one means simply “not Jewish.” Her certainty comes from someone whose name she dare not name (evidently a member of his security team), but who is close to Trump, and vouches for the sincerity of his conversion. I have no more information than this, as I vowed at the outset NOT to discuss this one specific person. Ever.  Most of the convictions of the Right seem to be based on unverifiable witness. The FACT that the data does not exist in any accessible form seems to be an argument in its favor, secret knowledge that only the chosen initiate would know, or that the Enemies of God would see with their own eyes but not believe.