A friend of The Observer's had a baby the other day. The word went out the way such things do these days, not by town crier or courier pigeon or folks crowding around the party line down at the general store, but by way of photos sent down the electric superhighway: a beautiful baby girl, squinting into the bright lights for the first time, ever. Newborns always look a little pissed in photos, and who can blame them? There you are in your safe, warm little apartment and suddenly you're pushed headfirst into this old, freezing world, full of honking horns and flickering lights, weird smells and Kardashians, a hundred-odd years to get your business handled if you're very lucky, arriving just in time for Trump's horseshit, the return of the poncho and...
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