A PERSONAL NOTE: It nears a month since I announced that circumstances would temporality interfere with my writing progress on Homo Vitruvius. Those circumstances, including an intensive summer class to teach this past month, the work involved in moving our household, still two weeks away, and, unexpectedly, the theft of our motor scooter — a Honda Metropolitan (looks like a Vespa but at half the price) that answers to the name of Max, should you encounter it — interfered even more than anticipated. I managed to start American Samizdat with the revision of four essays previously published on Trumpism that I always intended to offer again at this time, but the more intensive creative effort, on Homo Vitruvius, of my memoir Reason for Being in the World was completely interrupted. What I publish today is the last of the essays on Trump. The events of this month have offered cause for optimism few of us were feeling before them. Should all go…
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