Over the past four years, these pages have attempted to be interestingly rude about the intriguing US #Resident; Tweetie-Lie, DJ – or do we mean MC – Trump … waddeva.
Doubtless, we’ve fallen short of the mark as trans-Atlantic litigation isn’t one of our strong suits and unleashing the full contempt rolled up in our curled lip would be both counter-productive and entirely contrary to genially rational notions of emotionally resilient intellect.
So it is with shattering relief the American Electorate has removed that irresistible temptation to laugh at their Joke and installed a fresh attempt to join in with the Globe’s serious, thought-full circulation.
We wish the Biden-Harris Presidency all the discerning strength it will need to restore authority, dignity and calm to this great Office and hope the abboration of these past four years will be swept quietly away as the plangent debris of an unfortunate experiment.
As an aside, recently we’ve been catching up on Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing which aired 154 episodes between 2002 & 06 in the UK (somehow missed first time round). In light of that depiction, how would it be were some clever soul to write a reflection of the revolving door juvenalia – or even a flight of fancy – mapped over the West Wing’s excumbent flapper?