Slack Tide by Matt Labash

Kristi Noem, riding off into the sunset after becoming a burnt sacrifice at the House Judiciary Committee hearing Credit: Heather Diehl/Getty Images O Kristi, we hardly knew ye! Actually, that’s not true. We knew ye quite well, or at least better than we’d wish to. We didn’t have much choice. Mainly, because you were always in our grills with your Mar-a-Lago face, whether in $220 million taxpayer-funded sizzle reels, or in ICE-Barbie-wear.

War, what is it good for? Talking about your gold drapes This isn’t a full-on piece. Just another primal scream. (Have been doing a few of those lately. Which beats kicking the dog, pent-up frustration-wise, as I’m a dog champion.) But I was reminded yet again, today, of how grateful I am that we have a Very Serious President.

Editor’s Note: Have a question you’ve been sitting on that you haven’t asked Matt? Matt’s asking you why. Yeah, that’s right. Matt reserves the right to ask questions, too. How does it feel to have the tables turned? Give up your foolish pride, and Ask Matt at askmattlabash@gmail.com. Dear Matt, Are we “evolved” enough to hold a democracy together? Can we rule ourselves with reason and equanimity? Or, are we too brutish and naive to expect something like democracy to work? B.

The late Ray Liotta in Goodfellas, learning how to laugh at gangsterism long before we had to Photo: Warner Bros. Editor’s Note: Have you ever hurt so much, that you’re tempted to ask questions like, “Why, God, why?” Well this Q&A feature is called “Ask Matt,” not “Ask God.” So maybe hump your heathen carcass over to God’s Substack — he’s probably started one, who hasn’t? — and respect Matt’s boundaries.

Editor’s Note: After Donald Trump pushed the Washington Commanders to name their new stadium after him, do you have a question about what Trump will try to get named after himself next? Matt’s a ferocious street brawler/tender lover, not a psychic. But Matt would’ve thought Trump would have stopped naming things after himself upon seeing how Don Jr. turned out. Quit while you’re behind. All Matt knows is that everyone needs to stop capitulating to the Marmalade Monarch.

I woke up to the news this morning that an old fishing buddy of mine died. Actually, he wasn’t my fishing buddy, strictly speaking, but the former Vice President of the United States, Dick Cheney. He passed last night surrounded by his family, at the age of 84, due to complications from pneumonia and cardiac and vascular disease.

Considering the endless procession of carny acts that populate our MAGA-centric freak show these days, it seems nearly pointless to single out a lone congressperson for opprobrium. Which doesn’t keep me from doing it. Plenty of them are so noxious, that some of their names have now become slurs in my everyday speech.

I’m ignoring the news again this week. I know the world is falling apart, but fear not — it’ll still be falling apart when we get back to it. Instead, I feel compelled to close a loop. Last week, I told you that my father-in-law, Vic Peruzzi, was entering hospice. And the family was gathered ‘round at his house, doing the tearful Old Yeller scene. Except nobody was taking Poppy out behind the barn to put him out of his misery, much to his probable chagrin.

As a longtime social-media detractor, I’ve never had much respect for those who lard up their personal emails or public essays with things they’ve already uttered in their Twitter bleatings. Or at least I didn’t, until I joined Substack Notes. (Hypocrisy, thy name is Matt Labash.) Yes, I feel sick about it, too. But can you even call it “social” media if only about twenty people use it? And besides, Slack Tide doesn’t sell itself. Turns out, I have to write it and sell it.

The other day, I received an email from Drew Taylor, a fine journalist who had struck up a correspondence with me during my magazine years. When Drew first contacted me nearly a decade ago, he was a print jockey at the Tuscaloosa News in Alabama. But like most print jockeys these days, he did the smart thing, and got out. He’s now the digital managing editor at the CBS affiliate in Birmingham. Though he assures me they don’t put him on television.