Monthly Archives: July 2017

WASHINGTON Its strange how six months can feel like six exhausting years when theyve produced nothing but a string of nonsensical superlatives.

As Donald Trump celebrates the first eighth of his ridiculous amazing, stupendous, unsurpassed presidency, we mere mortals are left to ponder what we have learned. Well, here are some takeaways:

Facts do not matter to this White House. Trump has publicly lied about important matters more than 100 times since becoming president. These are not just equivocations open to dispute; theyre flat-out, verifiable untruths. For example, he said he has accomplished more and signed more bills into law than any previous president. Not true. His staff follows his lead, disseminating statements that are lies.

Trump not only failed to drain the swamp, he deepened and widened it. He has filled top posts with Wall Streeters and business cronies, doling out jobs like mints to loyal minions. After he promised not to touch Medicaid, which serves the disabled, poor and elderly in nursing homes, we were introduced to a Trumpcare plan that called for disqualifying 75 million and taking another 22 million off health insurance.

He is a costly public servant. He is on track in his first year to spend more taxpayer money on personal travel than President Barack Obama did in eight. We also pay for security at Trump Tower, his hotels and his golf courses. His re-election committee (of course he wants four more years after 2020) has raised millions to pay legal fees and rent for office space in Trump Tower.

Trump does not care that he has the lowest approval rating of any president since polling started (about 70 years). His base loves him even though he has done nothing for them since taking office. Is it any wonder that 34 percent of Americans do not believe in scientific evolution, according to the Pew Research Center? Is it surprising that a majority of Republicans believe that colleges and universities are a negative influence on the country? (Pew again.)

Trump has set the precedent that a presidents conflicts of interest do not matter. Refusing to divest himself of his holdings, he has put his son Junior (the one who loves meeting with Kremlin operatives) in charge. His wealthy daughter and son-in-law have offices in the White House. His hotels draw foreign leaders who want to curry favor. Fees at his Mar-a-Lago golf resort have doubled to $200,000.

Getting rid of excessive and overlapping regulations is one thing. Gutting environmental protection and consumer protection regulations as Trump is doing is another. A future column will detail the astonishing number of actions the administration quietly has taken to further the interests of big business to the detriment of Americans who love their parks, want to breathe clean air, drink clean water and buy products that wont hurt their children.

The artful dealmaker has not managed to make any good deals. Even with a GOP-controlled House and Senate, he could not repeal Obamacare. Instead he sabotages it by eliminating advertising, shortening the enrollment period and not enforcing the mandate to buy insurance or pay a tax to keep premiums low. Wages are not increasing. Exporters of American goods and services will be hurt by the lack of free trade he is engineering. No wall. No tax reform. No infrastructure plan.

The number of investigations caused by Trumps inexplicable fondness for Vladimir Putin, the Russian thief, thug and murderer, is unparalleled for a first term. Trump refuses to admit Russia meddled in our elections yet wants a national registry of all Americans personal information to root out voter fraud the experts say does not exist. Hey, Russia, Trump will make it easy for you to re-elect him.

The United States is no longer the leader of the free world and fighter for human rights in the eyes of our once closest allies. After seeing Trump up close and personal at international meetings, some say openly they may never again trust us.

Trumps misogyny, hedonism, lack of discipline, coarse language, bullying and refusal to read briefing papers or attempt to learn what he doesnt know diminish us. The man who convinced millions to watch him say Youre fired every week parlayed celebrity into the White House, but the applause is fading. Only 12 percent liked his disgraceful health care plan. It died.

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What we've learned from 6 months of Trump - Circleville Herald

In the years before we had to endure Instagramselfiesfrom the AmalfiCoast, mid-winter was one of the hottest times on the Sydney social calendar.

For an epic 14-year run, Bastille Day would be marked in Sydney with the grandest party of them all, the Cointreau Ball, the ultimate celebration of the '80s and '90s.

On par with today's Met Ball in New York, and dressed up as a promotion for the French liqueur, it was really more of a licence for a boozy knees up, where titled socialites would disappear under dinner tables and get up to all sorts of a mischief before dessert had even arrived.

Remember, this wasan era when such things were rejoicedrather than frowned upon.

Today's PS Spotlight shines back on those days of unbridled hedonism, when 400 or so of this town's most glamorouscitizens would converge on a secret location in a fleet of limos to indulge in an all-night event (one went for 48 hours) of bacchanalian delights, a sort of Mardi Gras at the Ritz, which Sydney has not seen since the lastCointreau Ball was held in 1999.

And yes, a much youngerPS managed to get along to a few Cointreau Balls, and while some of the memories are admittedly a little hazy,a few areindelible.

Like the year Sheila Scotter, the grand dame of Australian society who retained an imperial air about herself well into her dotage and was the founding editrix of Vogue Australia in 1962, turned up dressed as Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, wife of Nicholas II, the last Tsar of Russia. It was a fitting costume as she sailed into the room.

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Society set hairdresserJohBaileywas dressed as a living Academy Award one year, his hairless body (thanks to a painful wax session) entirely covered in gold paint that also camouflagedhis goosebumps. Bailey was pulled around the exclusive party on a specially made podium on wheels, towed by a glamorous Oscars "presenter" carrying a huge envelope emblazoned with the words: "And the winner is ..."

Another year Johdescended a grand staircase in a huge showgirl-inspired number replete with ostrich feathers and giant peacock fan tail behind him with the wingspan of a small private jet. The feathers didn't last though, after working the dance floor,Joh's crumpledplumage was a shadow of its former self by night's end, a sight that would have him in rehab according to today's petty puritans.

The brainchild of public relations dynamo Deeta Colvin, the Cointreau Ballwas the first eventin the country to bring dodgem cars and ice rinks into parties. Each year outrageous themes were thoroughly embraced by the party set who turned it into the ultimate costume party, the result ofmonths of meticulous planning.

Before he ended up in jail for dealing cocaine, Gough Whitlam's self-proclaimed "adopted" grandson (although the Whitlam's disowned him years ago)Andrew "Baci" Whitlam turned up to one Hollywood-themedCointreau Ball asLiz Taylor, but there was no room in the limo for the wheelchair he planned to take with him.

A newly single Johanna Griggs arrived dressed as Marilyn Monroe,aspiring party girl and magazine wunderkind Mia Freedman dressed up as aroller girl(complete with skates), while newlyweds Charlotte Dawson and Scott Miller were the hottest "it" couple in town. They truly lookedhappy together.

Of course the Cointreau Ball generated its own controversies, too. In its later years one scribe pennedit had lost its cutting edge: "a predictable mishmash that's become a self-regarding outing for B-grade celebrities who look like they've been dressed by Helen Keller and Ray Charles." He was never invited again.

That was also the year when some of Sydney's socialites had been bumped from the guest list in favour of soap stars, leading anothercolumnist to declare it was "more E Street than Queen Street".

But that didn't stopLeo Schofield from turning upin what looked like a creation from a Venetian masked ball. His daughter Nell went for a cocktail commando number.

Hotfashion designer of the dayLeona Edmiston wore a body suit that was covered, top to toe, in glittering sequins. Game show host Larry Emdur channelled Hugh Hefner, turning up with a bevy of his New Price Is Right models to finish off the look.

And who could forget television host Kerri-Anne Kennerley and husband John when they came as the Queen and King of Hearts?Indeed,the photoshaunted KAK for years to follow.

Today we now look back and smile and remember what a swell party it was.

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PS Spotlight: Remembering celebrity fancy dress for the grand Cointreau Ball - The Sydney Morning Herald

The Canadian art-rockers are bigger, bolder and more fearful of the future than ever on their colossal fifth album

Arcade Fire have spent a career making a virtue of their own pomposity. Since 2004 debut Funeral, theyve been unafraid to wrestle with big ideas that most bands wouldnt touch with a barge pole. If it sometimes appears as though they believe societys ills can be solved, or at least diagnosed, through the medium of grandiose art-rock records, you nonetheless have to admire their conviction that music ought to represent something more than mere content. Thankfully, after the ambitious-but-uneven Reflektor (2013), Everything Now marks an emphatic return to those lofty standards.

Every song that Ive ever heard is playing at the same time, its absurd, declares starry-eyed frontman Win Butler on the albums title-track, which is certainly one way to describe its mash-up of Dancing Queen and Talking Heads Road to Nowhere. Uplifting, incisive and sublime would be another.

On the flipside, the empty hedonism of Signs of Life and the self-loathing, suicidal youths of Creature Comfort one of whom, Butler notes, Came so close/ Filled up the bathtub and put on our first record, serve as a reminder of the cruel irony that in this age of total connectivity, weve somehow contrived to make ourselves more isolated and alone than ever. Everything Now might occasionally marvel at how far weve come, but its tempered by notes of dread at where were going.

Aptly enough for a record about information overload, its also had the veritable kitchen sink thrown at it, employing myriad styles, multiple big-name producers and the sort of ingenious, overblown marketing campaign thats become the norm for this band. On the two-hander of Infinite Content and Infinite_Content, the same song is presented in contrasting styles one as a knowing postmodern thrash, the other as a languid acoustic ramble but ultimately its the albums sense of humanity, not its innate clever-cleverness, that elevates it to something special. If you cant see the forest for the trees, just burn it all down,urges Butler as the mournful synth-pop of closing track We Dont Deserve Love builds to its climax, no longer sermonising from his pulpit, but howling in empathy from the ether.

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Release Date: July 28, 2017

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Arcade Fire - 'Everything Now' Album Review - NME - NME.com

Living The Dream, by Lauren Berry.Photo: supplied

Living the Dream

Lauren Berry

Virago, $29.99

This witty debut from Lauren Berry focuses on two young women in London whose dreams seem out of reach. Emma Derringer works at an ad agency; she blogs on the sly and privately keeps her hopes of being a novelist alive, in the face of a soul-crushing job she hates. Clementine Twist has returned from New York empty-handed, finding casual bar work and living with her mum as she desperately tries to advance a career as a screenwriter. The gal pals bond over random hedonism and cynical banter, while resenting other characters who seem to have their lives more together. Berry writes clever, overheard-sounding dialogue and her satire of two woman-children in their late 20s does have sardonic bite. The main trouble, though, is the novel's resolution a belated coming-of-age that skirts around rather than delves into problems the characters face, and feels surprisingly shallow and unearned.

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Fiction review: Living the Dream - The Sydney Morning Herald - The Sydney Morning Herald