9 September—So what are we to make of the Four Horse’s Asses of the Apocalypse in the photograph below? We hesitate to ascribe metaphorical conquest, war, hunger, or death to any one of them, but each clearly personifies all four of the negative concepts. Among many others, to be sure.

Take a good look at the horse’s asses. The big orange one in the front with the bleached thinning hair and its mouth open as usual, who’s dressed like the French national flag, appears to be blasé and just talking to hear itself talk.

The horses’ ass on the left looks either thoughtful, perplexed, or pissed. Or all three. You be the judge.

The horse’s ass on the right with the Old Glory hankie peeking out of its breast pocket is looking intently at the big orange one in the front with the bleached thinning hair and its mouth open, like a trained animal (e.g., show-horse’s ass) eagerly waiting for a command from its trainer/master, doubtless wishing the trainer/master would shut the hell up and give the command so the show-horse’s ass can please it and be given the expected treat.

The horse’s ass behind and partly obscured by the big one in front with the bleached thinning hair and its mouth open has the sort of blank expression common to sleepwalkers and others who for whatever reasons neither know nor care what’s happening around them.

And as for Donald Trump’s alleged birthday letter to Jeffrey Epstein, what’s the big deal? For all it’s worth, though, the text doesn’t sound at all like Trump. And why would he sign it “Donald” but type “Donald J. Trump”? But a pal is indeed a wonderful thing. That’s why God created dogs . . .