During Rosh Hashanah services, our rabbi announced that Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died. It felt like a terrible joke, like the worst insult comedy, like a topping of turkey vulture vomit on this year’s shit sundae.
I’ve written multiple columns on apology for Tablet, but right now, at the time of year that’s all about repentance, I don’t care to think about apologies at all. I’m too angry and too upset. Two-hundred-thousand Americans are dead, with no end in sight. People in positions of power view science with indifference, suspicion, or outright scorn. Teachers are being sent back into crumbling schools with insufficient ventilation and resources. Black Americans just keep on dying at the hands—and knees, and guns—of police. Fires rage. Job losses are at staggering levels. Children are crammed into cages. Thanks to voter suppression, Russian interference, easily hacked voting machines, and a deliberate attempt to kneecap the postal service, there’s no assurance whatsoever that our next election will be free or fair.
