Let's write about Donald Trump's obsession with Catholic popes

Peace on Earth Department. published in the New Yorker magazine by Jane Bua:  Other pople who Donald Trump might have liked better than His Holiness Pope 

Donald Trump thinks Pope Leo XIV is "soft on crime". Meet some real tough-guy Pontiffs who might have fit the bill.

The other day, Donald Trump took to his Truth (Fake ❗)Social to complain that Pope Leo XIV, the new Supreme Pontiff from Chicago, has been “weak on crime.” The Pope preaches peace too much, Donald Trump said, which “does not sit well with me.” There have been two hundred and sixty-seven Popes in the history of Popedom; would any of them have measured up to the Trumpian's evil standards❓

Pope Urban VI, who Poped from 1378 to 1389, was as tough as they come. He was so tough that he arrested half a dozen cardinals, confined them in an old cistern, and tortured them, after hearing a rumor that they were plotting to get rid of him. (As Trump once said, “When somebody challenges you unfairly, fight back.”) Only one cardinal survived—smells like a snitch—and Urban was apparently disappointed by how little the other captive cardinals had screamed.

(Yikes❗😰) As far as tough guys go, Pope Stephen VI (896-97) is up there, too. Like many strong leaders, he hated his predecessor, Formosus. In the mid-890s, Formosus supported King Arnulf, the leader of the Franks, in his invasion of Italy, then crowned Arnulf Roman Emperor—despite there already being a Roman Emperor. Even after Formosus died, Stephen VI, his replacement, thought that the dead Pope hadn’t been sufficiently punished for this betrayal, so he exhumed Formosus’ body, dressed it up “Weekend at Bernie’s” style, and put it on trial. Formosus’ corpse was found guilty of violating papal law. It was also accused of perjury, as many men—dead, or President—have been. Perhaps Formosus was just the victim of a witch hunt.

Pope Alexander VI (1492-1503) is another Pontiff who might have passed muster with Trump. Much like Donald Trump, he was a family man and a nepo baby. His uncle had been Pope and had personally made Alexander a cardinal. Then, when Alexander ascended to the papacy, he made at least nine relatives cardinals. He knew how to keep his family close—to God, of course. Even more up Trump’s alley, Alexander VI was a businessman. During his papal candidacy, he supposedly promised a rival cardinal multiple mules laden with bags of silver in exchange for supporting his bid. (“Leverage,” Trump has remarked. “Don’t make deals without it.”) It is said that, in 1501, Pope Alexander’s son Cesare, born of his chief mistress, Vannozza (“I’ve had them all, secretly, the world’s biggest names,” Trump once wrote, of his romantic partners), threw a party that became known as the Banquet of Chestnuts. Fifty young courtesans attended, according to a journal entry from the time, “at first in their garments, then naked.” Then “chestnuts were strewn around, which the naked courtesans picked up, creeping on hands and knees between the chandeliers.” Trump loves a nice chandelier. His new four-hundred-million-dollar East Wing ballroom was supposed to have several gold ones, but a very weak judge has blocked construction.

Pope Benedict IX might have caught Donald Trump's evil fancy. At one point, he accepted a pretty sum to abdicate the papacy—the art of the deal. Benedict is also the only Pope in history to hold the office three times, so there’s a good chance he’s already on the President’s radar.

We also shouldn’t forget about Chief Pope, the L.A.P.D. (Los Angeles Police Department)  officer from “The Closer,” who’s not technically a Pope (or a real person) but is definitely tough. As is Olivia Pope, the D.C. fixer from “Scandal,” whom the show describes as a “gladiator in a suit.” It would have been better if she were an actual gladiator Pope, but you can’t have everything.

Or perhaps Donald Trump would have been satisfied enough with Peter, one of Jesus’ original twelve apostles, whom many consider to be the first Pope.  Saint Peter is famous for denying ever knowing Jesus. Trump, too, has denied association with people whose names start with “J.” There’s nothing tougher than that. Then again, the Bible says that as soon as Peter denied Christ, he “wept bitterly” in remorse, which is decidedly weak. Everyone knows real Popes don’t cry. ♦

Let's write about ethical dilemmas caused by legalizing physician assisted suicide and Medical Aid in Dying

The alternative to  Physician Assisted Suicide (PAS) and Medical Aid in Dying (MAiD) is hospice care.

Echo report by Chadwick Moore, senior reporter, for the New York Post interviewed disability advocate Heather Hancock who said, "Keep your ears and eyes open, especially if you have a disability or mental illness, or are in any way considered a disadvantaged or non-contributing member of society. Those are the people that are targeted. [Assisted suicide] is an effective way to get rid of those they deem draining the healthcare system. It’s not compassionate."❗😒😞😩😧😟😢

“'I was terrified. I couldn’t believe what was happening. They talked to me like I was putting a dog down', Fisher, 71, told The Post from her home in Ontario, Canada"

Echo report published by the New York Post and the Patients Rights

Debbie Fisher is advising New Yorkers to prepare their elderly relatives ahead of the state legalizing Physician Assisted Suicide (PAS) this summer.

The Canadian’s elderly mother, Rita Busby, came dangerously close to being euthanized over a single sentence.

Her mom, who was active and independent in spite of her 93 years, ended up in the hospital after accidentally overdosing on a drug she was prescribed. Drowsy and not thinking straight, Busby had made an offhand comment to one of the nurses that she “wanted to die.” Hospital workers took her at her word.

Next, a Canadian government psychologist pulled Fisher aside to let her know they were preparing to euthanize her mother, a devout Catholic and lifelong Blue Jays fan.

Fortunately,  Fisher and her mom were prepared, as Busby had signed over Power of Attorney to her daughter. Now she and others in Canada — which legalized PAS a decade ago — are warning the Empire State of the “slippery slope” into a culture of coercive death which may be headed their way.

“My mom wanted to die, she didn’t want to be killed!” Fisher said. “If I hadn’t been there, and she hadn’t signed over Power of Attorney, who knows what would have happened”

It was a narrow escape and Rita lived for six more months — during that time she went bowling and to baseball games, attended a family reunion and mended strained relationships before dying naturally at home in 2019. 💙🦋

“People don’t understand there’s a lot of things that go on behind the scenes [in hospitals] when there’s no one there to protect them,” said Fisher.

In the last ten years, an estimated 100,000 Canadians have been euthanized by their government 😟— about one in 20 deaths in the country in 2024, alone. (Maine Writer, it is statistically impossible for this number of assisted suicide to have been 100 percent legitimate. My strong suspicion is that a small percentage were motivated by personal ambitions related to the challenges caused by caring for a family member or for inheritance.)

“You just opened Pandora’s Box and the slippery slope will get very steep very fast,” Heather Hancock, 58, of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan and who suffers from cerebral palsy, told The Post.

She now carries a laminated “do not euthanize” card wherever she goes.

“This is eugenics and this is genocide against the [disadvantaged],” she claimed.

Hancock is no stranger to death-pushers. She’s lost count of the number of times Canadian doctors have tried to coerce her into killing herself, she claimed, through Medical Assistance in Dying, or MAiD —the title given to their PAS program.

During one hospital visit, “the nurse on my ward looked at me and said, ‘You really should consider MAiD. You’re not living. You’re just existing,” she recalled to The Post.

She now carries a laminated “do not euthanize” card wherever she goes.

Hancock warned certain classes of New Yorkers may have to be vigilant going into heath care facilities. “Keep your ears and eyes open, especially if you have a disability or mental illness or are in any way considered a disadvantaged or non-contributing member of society. Those are the people that are targeted,” she said.
“[PAS] is an effective way to get rid of those they deem draining the healthcare system. It’s not compassionate.”
Major US medical groups strongly condemn PAS, including the American Medical Association, which warns in its code of ethics, “Physician-assisted suicide is fundamentally incompatible with the physician’s role as healer, would be difficult or impossible to control, and would pose serious societal risks.”
Fourteen additional states are considering legalizing PAS this year.

So far, no state has legalized euthanasia — the form of assisted suicide where a medical professional administers the lethal agent rather than being prescribed a deadly drug the patient takes on their own.

Between 30 and 50 percent of patients prescribed the killing concoction don’t end up taking it, studies show, whereas booking a euthanasia appointment has a much higher kill rate. 

Virtually all assisted suicides in Canada are now carried out by euthanasia.

“It makes it feel more like a medical act. People feel more obligated to it because, of course, the doctor has to schedule it,” Alex Schadenberg, executive director of Canada’s Euthanasia Prevention Network, an advocacy group, told The Post.

Canada, which has a socialized medical system, will formal

ly legalize euthanasia for mental health as the sole underlying condition in 2027, if legal challenges against the expansion are unsuccessful.

“It could be really touchy for someone in New York if they don’t have the gold standard in health insurance and they develop some kind of disability,” said Schadenberg.

“In Canada we have serious funding problems in our healthcare system, hospitals are running deficits. They would never say it to you, but clearly dead people don’t cost money.”

“You’ve had cases of people who are homeless asking to be approved for euthanasia,” he added, which was reported on in 2024.

Health Canada told The Post: “Canada’s medical assistance in dying law seeks to respect personal autonomy for those seeking access to MAID, while at the same time protecting vulnerable people and the equality rights of all Canadians. MAID is a complex and deeply personal issue. “The Government of Canada is committed to ensuring our laws reflect Canadians’ needs, protect those who may be vulnerable, and support autonomy and freedom of choice.”
Studies show overall suicide rates increase when PAS becomes legalized, going up by 10.5 percent in Canada since PAS was broadened in 2021. In Europe the numbers are more staggering: suicides increased by 18.5 percent — and raised by nearly 40 percent in women — among nine countries where PAS is permitted, according to a 2022 study.
One case in Spain caught the attention of the White House this month, which has demanded a probe into the euthanization of 25-year-old gang rape victim Noelia Castillo, who had been confined to a wheelchair since 2022, when she attempted suicide by jumping from a fifth-floor building.

“[PAS] demystifies the issue of suicide. It takes away the whole concept that suicide is not the right way to go,” said Schadenberg.

New York’s law, set to take effect on August 4, requires patients must be a New York resident, at least 18 years old, mentally capable of making health decisions, and diagnosed with a terminal illness with six months or less to live. (Maine Writer: Many people who are diagnosed with a terminal illness will outlive their 6 months prognosis.)

There is a mandatory five-day waiting period between the time a suicide drug is prescribed and when it can be filled. The program is overseen by the Department of Health. (Maine Writer: There should be a subsidiary Department of Death in this organizational chart.)In 2021, Canada removed its mandatory ten-day waiting period and now desperate Canadians can get same-day suicides.

Such was the case when an 80-year-old Ontario woman recovering from heart surgery (known as “Mrs. B” in an official report) requested palliative care and initially declined MAiD due to her religious beliefs. Nevertheless, her husband — experiencing caregiver burnout —contacted a MAiD referral service the same day; after two quick assessments, a third provider approved her, and she was euthanized later that evening, according to the report. (See my Maine Writer note above....)
States tend to follow Canada’s trend of loosening restrictions over time — but, so far, not to the same extremes.

Each state where PAS is legal reports increasing usage over time. Oregon, Washington, Vermont, Hawaii and Colorado have also removed residency requirements, resulting in grisly “death tourism,” while California was the first to shorten mandatory waiting times.
Liberal state California has overseen the most PAS deaths in the US with 4,287 between 2016 and 2023, with Oregon a close second.

“It changes medicine,” said Schadenberg. “People have to recognize the importance of being there with their loved ones in the hospital. In our culture, there are too many people going through difficult health conditions alone and that actually breeds the death idea.”

PAS also transforms the death industry. Entrepreneurial New Yorkers could soon follow the lead of Canadian funeral homes offering one-stop MAiD services.

In London, Ontario, A. Millard George Funeral Home converted a former casket showroom into a “Compassion Suite” where patients can die surrounded by family.
Quebec’s Complexe Funéraire du Haut-Richelieu similarly provides a dedicated space for the procedure, allowing loved ones to hand off the body immediately afterward.
Advocates for PAS argue it’s about bodily autonomy, dignity and independence.

“For New Yorkers nearing the end of life, what matters most is having access to the full spectrum of end‑of‑life care,” Francesca Triest, New York-New Jersey Campaign Manager for Compassion & Choices, which lobbied strongly for New York’s law, told The Post.

“The Medical Aid in Dying Act reinforces a fundamental principle: every individual deserves compassion and the autonomy to make personal decisions about their own body and their care at life’s end.”

But Fisher said that sends the wrong message to everyone else. “If it’s legal, it must be OK. That’s the mindset they’re in,” she said.
Adding: “My body, my choice and I’m just going to go to sleep and all my problems go away. But the families are left behind".
(Maine Writer: Families, elderly and disabled will be coerced into believing they have a duty to die. This "my body, my choice" slogan is propaganda. Frankly, is complete hypocrisy to use such a euphemism to gloss over the brutal finality of death by suicide.)
“It’s like a holocaust. It serves no purpose.”

Let's write about immersion immigrant dining experiences in a creative restaurant review

 Low didn't originally set out to become a restaurateur- he's a filmmaker by training....."

This Tables for Two review published in The New Yorker magazine, by Helen Rosner, and at this social media link here. (This review describes an immersion into creative immigrant ethnic dining...wish we could visit....I suppose a diner could enjoy a different experience every day for a month.)

(Love this descriptive excerpt:  "Kelang’s paratha isn’t a pizza, but it’s not not a pizza; it’s chewy, wheaty, savory, creamy, and fresh, with a bit of heat in the dal and a brightening zing of green from a tangle of herbs on top." -Haha, hmmm, so what's not not a pizza, anyway❓)

Kelang, is a Malaysian restaurant located in Greenpoint, part of a new crop of restaurants that celebrate the cultural synthesis of many immigrant groups that coexist in tight proximity to one another. This intermingling isn’t exactly a new phenomenon, but Kelang’s approach feels specific to this moment. The restaurant’s owner, Christopher Low, is an American-born son of Malaysian parents. He grew up in Brooklyn, eating his parents’ cooking in addition to the Haitian and Jamaican food of his neighbors and friends. Low brings this background into his cooking. “Call it the second-generation turn: the cooking of children whose palates belong not to their parents’ homelands but to the cities that they were raised in; cooks making food that doesn’t attempt to re-create someplace distant, in space or in memory, so much as to reflect their actual lives, which are hybrid and hyphenated, deeply rooted yet widely branching,” 

Helen Rosner writes: The best thing on the menu at Kelang, a Malaysian restaurant in Greenpoint that opened in December, is a puffy paratha on a bed of spiced red-lentil dal, topped with creamy Italian stracciatella cheese. Depending on who you are, where you’re from, and how rigid you are in your notions of gastronomic interpolation, this will strike you as either an absurd concept or a brilliant one.

Kelang is part of a new crop of restaurants that celebrate the cultural synthesis of many immigrant groups that coexist in tight proximity to one another, from the Southeast Asian-kissed Italian American joint JR & Son to the Southern-meets-Sichuan fried-chicken spot Pecking House.

What these places are doing isn’t “fusion” in the cynical sense, wherein a chef from one culture raids another for decorative elements. It’s something more personal, less calculated. Kelang’s paratha isn’t a pizza, but it’s not not a pizza (❓); it’s chewy, wheaty, savory, creamy, and fresh, with a bit of heat in the dal and a brightening zing of green from a tangle of herbs on top.
This intermingling isn’t exactly a new phenomenon (birria ramen❗ Pastrami burritos❗❓ Gumbo❗), but Kelang’s approach feels specific to this moment.

Call it the second-generation turn: the cooking of children whose palates belong not to their parents’ homelands but to the cities that they were raised in; cooks making food that doesn’t attempt to re-create someplace distant, in space or in memory, so much as to reflect their actual lives, which are hybrid and hyphenated, deeply rooted yet widely branching. Kelang’s owner, Christopher Low, is an American-born son of Malaysian parents. He grew up in Brooklyn, eating his parents’ cooking in addition to the Haitian and Jamaican food of his neighbors and friends.

In 2022, he, his parents, and his sister opened a restaurant, Hainan Chicken House, in Sunset Park, a counter-service spot named in celebration of a regional culinary export that’s hugely popular in Malaysia: poached chicken, fragrant with scallions and ginger, served with chicken-infused rice and sauces.
The restaurant became a minor sensation—the titular dish is terrific, silken and subtle and rich, but what most stood out was a rotating lineup of specials, mostly hawker-style Malaysian fare, particularly the food of Klang, his parents’ home town, on Malaysia’s western coast.

At Kelang (the restaurant is named for an archaic spelling of the city’s name), those dishes are brought to the fore and woven with flavors from Low’s life in Brooklyn. There’s the paratha, of course, with its playful Neapolitan flourishes, but also a rendang, a Malaysian style of curry in which the sauce simmers down to almost a rich glaze, here made with tender shreds of oxtail—smoked first, Caribbean style. It’s served alongside rice cooked with mushrooms and herbs, a clever mashup of Malaysian nasi ulam and Haitian djon djon (small black edible mushrooms).

Oxtail rendang, a mix of Malaysian and Caribbean staples.

Low isn’t the first to do a curry-chicken potpie, (❓- hmmm, interesting....😉😋) but his version is rich and warm, with airy, shattery pastry reminiscent of roti, flaky and slick with butter. (Note:  I suppose butter improves nearly all unfamiliar flavors....)

Not all dishes on the menu make you play a game of spot-the-references; some dishes are just terrific for terrific’s sake. Take, for instance, the clay-pot bak kut teh, featuring big hunks of pork (belly, trotter, rib) bobbling around in an intense, herbal broth in which they’ve braised for ages, or the “moonlight kway teow,” a stir-fried dish of wide rice noodles that are near-black with dark soy sauce, with a yellow orb of egg yolk in the center; its flavor is sultry and craggy from smoked clams and wok hei. Rojak, a spicy-savory fruit salad that’s a signature Malaysian dish, is made with seasonal fruit (guava and pineapple, among others, on my visits), plus crunchy cucumbers tossed in a gorgeous dressing tangy with fermented shrimp paste. Hainanese chicken—the dish that started it all—is available at dinner, and is impeccable: a steamy, silky half bird, foot coquettishly still attached, alongside a cluster of bowls containing sauces, rice, and a broth that strikes the ideal midpoint between fussy from-scratch freshness and bouillon nostalgia. I especially loved a dish of abacus seeds—chewy little dumplings made from taro, which the menu cheekily identifies as “gnocchi,” sauteed with smoked mushrooms and fiery chiles.

Low didn’t originally set out to become a restaurateur—he’s a filmmaker by training, and he’s cited the works of Wong Kar Wai as a primary influence on the interior design of Kelang. The space, previously a medical office, is boxy, with a certain high-ceilinged sterility, but Low has staged it like a movie set to conjure a lush, melancholy romanticism, with deep-red banquettes, tropical vines, gilt-edged mirrors, and, at the U-shaped bar, bent-bamboo chairs, with a boudoir-pink fringe. If the low, blushing lighting doesn’t get you in the mood for love, maybe a drink will help: a Martini dirtied up with a splash of fish sauce, a Negroni with notes of cherry blossom and lemongrass, or a Longsan Lahhh, a note-perfect non-alcoholic cocktail with smoky tea, fruit juice, and a bit of chile-pepper heat. 

Service, on my visits, was a bit spacey, but it’s been tightening up; the tone of the place seems to be in progress, too, oscillating between that of a neighborhood joint, an amorous date-night nook, and a sceney hot spot. But that sort of multiplicity plays well here: Kelang is a little bit of many things, all wrapped up together, in a way that totally works. ♦

P.S. from Maine Writer, I don't think spell check can keep pace with the variety of words in this Tables for Two article.  

Let's write about the fun of reading children's books again!

I have read "Charlotte's Web" by .E.B. White at least three times. 

I read it aloud to my two sons when we were in transit living in my sister's apartment in Winnetka, Illinois, and they had not yet been enrolled in the elementary school. One time, I read an excerpt when it was my turn to give an inspirational moment at our weekly Rotary meeting. I started to cry when I read Charlotte's goodbye to Wilber.

Why adults should read more children’s books an essay published in the Boston Globe by Zach Przystup.

You’re never too old to believe in magic. Zach Przystup is the author of the Substack newsletter "Ask Your Father", where he writes about parenting, family life, sports, and technology.

C.S. Lewis wrote, “Someday you’ll be old enough to read fairy tales again.” It looks like I’ve reached that day.

I just turned 40, and over the past couple of years I’ve read some 20 children’s novels by the likes of Daniel Nayeri, Roald Dahl, Dave Eggers, Katherine Rundell, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and Louis Sachar.

The binge wasn’t intentional. It started with introducing my old favorites to my first- and third-grade boys.

I got curious about what’s out there for kids today, and then I was enjoying myself so much that I got around to some of the classics I had never read, like “The Hobbit” and “The Chronicles of Narnia.” Some of these books were among the best I had read in recent memory, or ever, really. 

And it sure is nice to be able to finish something in a few days.

That’s rarely the case with adult fiction. With its penchant for weighty drama — murder, betrayals, affairs — it all can get, well, a little depressing.

The thing is, children’s literature also ponders the big questions — how to deal with unfairness, what makes a good life, and what happens after we die — but usually in a way that’s inspiring and less long-winded. As my favorite writing professor would charge: “Get to the pith!” (IOW, get inside the issues.)

Children’s novels excel at getting to the pith. Just consider: You’re wrongly thrown into a juvenile detention center and ordered to dig holes in the scorching sun alongside a ragtag group of youth vandals. What’s your next move? — “Holes,” Louis Sachar. A strange girl parachutes in from a magical portal and says she needs your help to save her world. Do you go? — “Impossible Creatures,” Katherine Rundell. You’re a valued member of an island’s animal community (you’re a wild dog), but one day that community changes forever. Do you stick it out or leave behind everything you’ve ever known? — “The Eyes and the Impossible,” Dave Eggers.

Children’s books also remind us of an essential truth: The magic, adventure, and boundless possibilities that we naturally grasped as kids are all still out there.

We badly need this reminder because as we get jobs, start paying mortgages, and get bulldozed by domestic responsibilities, the magic tends to die.

That’s why we need “James and the Giant Peach.” A good children’s yarn chips away at our jaded exteriors by helping us to look at the world the way we used to as kids, with a sense of wonder, awe, discovery, and playfulness that are all worthy of the life we’ve been given. They remind us of who we were and ask whether we still believe in the things we used to.

We’re a grown and grizzled Peter Pan; these books take us back to Neverland.

After reading “Holes,” I visited my parents at my childhood home. As I sat playing with my boys in the front yard, I suddenly thought to show them the dirt patch under the great oak tree where I used to dig for gems as a little boy. They eagerly fetched a spade, started digging, and found all kinds of treasure. It was a full-circle moment of play and discovery inspired by an excellent children’s novel — an excellent novel, period.

The morning commute, the endless dishes and laundry and schedule shuffling — they aren’t going anywhere. But, if we remember how to look, we can recognize that our daily lives are still shot through with plenty of magic. Can anyone who has visited a national park deny that fantastical realms exist❓ 

Can anyone who has a child deny that wondrous creatures exist❓ 

I think that’s what C.S. Lewis was getting at.

Here’s some parting advice from Roald Dahl: “And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” Children’s books invite us to read and believe again. Who knows what we’ll find❓