Wednesday, November 30, 2022

the last book I ever read (The Passenger by Cormac McCarthy, excerpt two)

from The Passenger by Cormac McCarthy:

Bianca smiled. She sipped her drink. Tell me something, she said.

Of course.

Does Knoxville produce crazy people or does it just attract them?

Interesting question. Nature nurture. Actually the more deranged of them seem to hail from the neighboring hinterlands. Good question though. Let me get back to you on that.



Tuesday, November 29, 2022

the last book I ever read (The Passenger by Cormac McCarthy, excerpt one)

from The Passenger by Cormac McCarthy:

You dont know anything. You just make things up.

Yeah. But some of it’s pretty cool.

Some of it.

How about this: What’s black and white and red all over?

I cant begin to think.

Trotsky in a tuxedo.

Great.




Sunday, November 27, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt fourteen)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

Something had spoiled Paulie and Pammy. Well, it wasn’t her. She’d always been firm. Once she’d left them at the zoo for disobeying. When she’d told them to stop feeding the giraffe they’d continued. She’d left them at the zoo and gone for a cocktail, and when she returned Pammy and Paulie were standing repentant at the front gate, zoo balloons deflated. That had been a good lesson in obedience. A month later, at Ed Pedloski’s funeral, when, with a single harsh look, she’d ordered them to march past the open coffin, they’d marched past the open coffin lickety-split, no shenanigans.

Poor Ed had looked terrible, having been found after several days on his kitchen floor.



Saturday, November 26, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt thirteen)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

Mr. Regis unplugs the mic from his little amp, picks up the little amp, walks sadly off, if one can be said to walk sadly while carrying a little amp.



Friday, November 25, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt twelve)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

“I just couldn’t blow my whistle on you,” Amy says. “I’ve found you cute since we were little.”

“I’ve found you cute, too,” I say.

Which I haven’t, that much, but it seems like a bad moment to begin violating politeness.



Thursday, November 24, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt eleven)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

Then came a change. Because she was in love, or fancied herself to be, with Randy, and because, I expect, she could feel that not only did he not feel the same way, he didn’t feel much about her at all (and why would he, given that she was, as mentioned, expecienced by most people as a slightly puzzling blankness), she started, perhaps, to panic a little, to sense, maybe for the first time in her life, that her natural way of being was not interesting enough to get the attention of (much less delight or captivate) someone like, even, Randy, who, I should say, was no font of originality himself but at least had a big truck he loved and would wash with pleasure every Friday after his shift and sometimes would at least make a dirty joke or pick up a strange-looking damaged orange and do the funny voice in which he imagined such an orange might speak, and was, for example, a passionate advocate for, and defender of, his mother, a mean old thing who lived a few houses down from the store, a strongly self-certain lightning bolt of constant opining who presented as a fierce pair of black men’s glasses moving around on a tanned, agitated face.

But Randy, as they say, thought his mother hung the moon, and this was because she thought he hung it. It was a kind of mutual admiration society. He got along nicely with her. And she got along nicely with him. Which was, I thought, we all thought, part of the reason he’d never married, perhaps.

It was a small town, and we did a good deal of talking about such things.



Wednesday, November 23, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt ten)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

When you reach a certain age, you see that time is all we have. By which I mean, moments like those springing deer this morning, and watching your mother be born, and sitting at the dining room table here waiting for the phone to ring and announce that a certain baby (you) had been born, or that day when all of us hiked out at Point Lobos. That extremely loud seal, your sister’s scarf drifting down, down to that black, briny boulder, the replacement you so generously bought her in Monterey, how pleased you made her with your kindness. Those things were real. That is what (that is all) one gets. All this other stuff is real only to the extent that it interferes with those moments.



Tuesday, November 22, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt nine)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

God, the hours of her life she’d spent trying to be good. Standing at the sink, deciding if some plastic tofu tub was recyclable. That time she’d hit a squirrel and circled back to see if she could rush it to the vet. No squirrel. But that didn’t prove anything. It might have crawled off to die under a bush. She’d parked the car and looked under bush after bush until a lady came out of a hair salon to ask if she was okay.



Monday, November 21, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt eight)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

This was real. This had happened. A guy had attacked her kid and suffered no consequences whatsoever and was probably off bragging about it to some other deadbeats around a campfire or whatnot.



Sunday, November 20, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt seven)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

Once she’d dreamed he’d started smoking. In the dream, he’d been smoking a cigar. At Cub Scouts. Sort of flaunting it. He had a man’s voice and, in that voice, asked Mr. Belden if there was such a thing as a Smoking Merit Badge. Next morning, in real life, he’d busted her sniffing his clothes and started bawling the way he did when he was totally telling the truth but not being heard.



Saturday, November 19, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt six)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

Their leader urges Company to stay calm. Company does not: two men demand to know what this is, what is this all about, do they not know this is a private home? The leader urges the two men to step into the aisle, speak their minds, he is (they are) here to listen.

“I would hope so,” says the more rotund of the two, though both are rotund, then joins the leader in the aisle and extends a hand to his less-rotund friend, who is having some trouble getting out.

Both rotund men are now in the aisle, ready to register their feelings.



Friday, November 18, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt five)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

Stomping out, he flicks the lights off, on, off.

Mr. U. follows adult son Mike out.

Jean goes over, flicks the lights back on.

“Forget him, guys,” she says to us. “Just do your thing. Have fun.”

We plan to. We plan to just do our thing, have fun.



Thursday, November 17, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt four)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

Lauren is Major Marcus Reno, ordered by Custer to take his battalion and attack the village at its south end. Custer has promised to support him in this. Reno would prefer to stay with the main group. He has never been in a proper Indian fight. But off he rides. When the village comes into sight, the battalion breaks into a gallop. The men whoop. Soon they will be covered in glory. In the distance: white shapes, fragile structures, containing human beings. The aim is to fire into the tents, ride over them, cause a panic, chase down and kill any who flee on foot.

But now a dozen or so Hunkpapas appear, riding back and forth in the path of the advance, raising dust in an attempt to gain the women and children time to escape.



Wednesday, November 16, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt three)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

“I just want you all to know,” he says. “You’re not alone. There are many of us who see this thing for the monstrous excess it is. You’re human beings. You are. Even if the world—even if my parents—seem to have forgotten it. But help is coming. It is. Soon.”

Then does his palms-together bow and leaves.

Lauren and Craig and I exchange looks of: Wow, thanks, adult son Mike, we did not know, until you just now told us, that we are human beings.

Then exchange worried looks.

It is always regrettable to have attracted the attention of adult son Mike.



Tuesday, November 15, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt two)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

“Company tonight,” he says. “We’ll do City.”

So: a long, anxious day. We would really like to Rehearse. But Mr. U must go to Work. What I do to prepare: think about City, all day. Once we begin, it is mostly us. Our Speaking is being supercharged and made more articulate via the Pulse, yes, shaped, of course, by the Settings, but still, at the end of the day, it is, mostly, us. It is me, Craig, and Lauren, and we do not Speak identically well, if I may say so, and preparation is part (but only part) of the reason why one of us may, for example, tend to Speak better (in a more lofty, engaging way) than the others. There is also something innate: talent, one might term it.

It is not a competition. And yet it is.



Monday, November 14, 2022

the last book I ever read (Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders, excerpt one)

from Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders:

She is, that is, I believe, falling for me. And I am falling for her. When I first began Speaking to her of her Beauty it was, yes, mostly the Settings. The Settings said: Jeremy, Speak, while looking at me, of my Beauty. Also, my Specificity was always set, by her, to high. Speaking of her Beauty so often, with such high Specificity, made her Beauty real to me; made me notice it. (She really is so Beautiful.) As I began Speaking to her of her Beauty with more fervor (feeling more fervor, because noticing her Beauty with more specificity, thereby Speaking of it with greater precision), she began, from there on the floor, to get, more and more often, a certain soft look upon her face, an arousal look, yes, but also a love look. I believe so.



Sunday, November 13, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt eighteen)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

Trump’s sanguinity had worn off by the second week after the election. He informed aides he had no intention of departing the White House for Biden. “I’m just not going to leave,” he told one. “We’re never leaving,” he told another. “How can you leave when you won an election?” To the chair of the Republican National Committee, he was overheard asking, “Why should I leave if they stole it from me?” Never before in history had a president refused to vacate the White House—the closest parallel might have been Mary Todd Lincoln, who stayed in the mansion for nearly a month after her husband was assassinated—and Trump’s cold declaration left aides uncertain as to what he might do next. They ignored his comments, hoping he would move on, but his defiance soon took other forms.

He was not willing to hear from anyone about a concession to Biden. On November 12, Trump had planned to meet with campaign officials to discuss a plan for what to do with the massive sums—ultimately more than $200 million over three weeks—raised since the election, on the pretense of combating voter fraud. That conversation was delayed, as the campaign leadership was overtaken by what became an hours-long session about contesting election results in the six states where Trump’s allies were trying to change the results. As Clark, the top lawyer on the campaign, presented an update on the situation in Georgia, delving into arcana about the state’s statutes to explain the so-called hand recount under way, he was interrupted by a voice on the phone. “No, it’s all wrong,” said Giuliani, to whom Trump had been criticizing Clark in private. White House counsel Pat Cipollone, who would become Clark’s closest ally in the weeks ahead, said Trump’s lawyers should let the hand recount finish before pursuing other legal remedies in Trump’s name. “We should stop the recount immediately,” Giuliani protested. Clark replied that the process was part of the secretary of state’s authority. “It is what it is,” he said resignedly. “You’re lying to the president,” Giuliani yelled back, claiming that Clark was minimizing Trump’s chances of success. Clark yelled back, “You’re a fucking asshole.” Trump hung up the phone and turned to Clark. “Will you go call him and make up?” Trump said. Clark agreed and, after the meeting had concluded, apologized to Pence for swearing in front of him. “There’s no reason to apologize when it’s the truth,” Pence replied.



Saturday, November 12, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt seventeen)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

On camera, Trump could not resist trying to one-up and undermine his own specialists. After a top Homeland Security science adviser presented research revealing the virus to be vulnerable to higher temperatures, Trump mused aloud about potential applications of this finding. “So supposing we hit the body with a tremendous—whether it’s ultraviolet or just a very powerful light—and I think you said that hasn’t been checked because of the testing,” Trump said, before looking off to the side of the room where his doctors typically sat while he spoke, apparently in search of affirmation. “And then I said, supposing you brought the light inside the body, which you can do either through the skin or some other way, and I think you said you’re going to test that too.” And then, “I see the disinfectant that knocks it out in a minute, one minute. And is there a way we can do something like that by injection inside or almost a cleaning? Because you see, it gets in the lungs, and it does a tremendous number on the lungs, so it would be interesting to check that.”

Trump searched for a quick virus remedy, from anyone who could get through to him. After billionaire tech entrepreneur Larry Ellison and the Fox News host Laura Ingraham evangelized to him about the supposed efficacy of the malaria drug hydroxychloroquine as an alternative therapeutic to prevent the virus, Trump began to endorse its use. “Look, it may work and it may not work,” Trump told reporters, relying on Norman Vincent Peale’s power-of-positive-thinking method to combat the novel virus. “And I agree with the doctor, what he said: It may work, it may not work. I feel good about it. That’s all it is. Just a feeling. You know, I’m a smart guy. I feel good about it.”



Thursday, November 10, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt sixteen)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

He had been in a sour mood from the time he boarded Air Force One at Andrews Air Force Base. Over the Atlantic, he had erupted by phone at British prime minister Theresa May with a litany of perceived grievances after she tried to play to his vanity by congratulating him on his party’s midterm successes. After arriving in Europe, Trump praised Adolf Hitler, saying that he had accomplished some good things. Some who were told of the remark in real time suspected—and perhaps hoped—that it was intended purely to provoke Kelly. Even when Trump didn’t intend to tweak Kelly, he managed to offend him: at one point during Kelly’s tenure, Trump questioned in Kelly’s presence why people would choose to go into the military. At that moment, he and Kelly were standing together at the Arlington National Cemetery gravesite where the retired general’s son was buried.

Kelly and Dunford ended up heading to Belleau alone, as Trump remained in his Paris hotel room. A few explanations went around for the last-minute cancellation. The weather was bad, and traveling by car instead of helicopter would take too long or force the closure of too many Paris roads. However, Kelly deputy Zach Fuentes alerted other officials to the decision not to travel about fifteen minutes before the Secret Service made its determination about the safety of flying. Media coverage of Trump traveling all the way to France only to skip the ceremony honoring American war dead was predictably critical (and included several accounts from staff saying anonymously that Fuentes had been responsible). When he saw how his trip was being covered, Trump screamed at staff, complaining that the decision not to attend had been made for him and that he could have gone after all. It was reported much later, by The Atlantic’s Jeffrey Goldberg, based on several sources, that Trump had derided the war dead and told Kelly that he did not want his hair to get wet in the rain.



Wednesday, November 9, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt fifteen)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

After nearly two hours behind closed doors in Helsinki, Trump and Putin held a press conference at which Trump said the special counsel’s “probe is a disaster for our country” because it had interfered with U.S.–Russian relations. Jonathan Lemire, of the Associated Press, asked Trump about the assessment of U.S. intelligence that Russia conducted the email hackings, and asked, “Would you now with the whole world watching tell President Putin—would you denounce what happened in 2016 and would you warn him to never do it again?” Trump responded with a rambling answer about wanting to see the server from the Democratic National Committee and Clinton’s deleted emails, before saying, “President Putin—he just said it’s not Russia. I will say this. I don’t see any reason why it would be.” Putin chimed in that the matter needed to be settled in a court of law, not by an investigation. Some aides speculated that Trump was simply being contrary or trying to please the person standing next to him. Regardless of his motivations, by taking Putin’s denial at face value, Trump was publicly siding with the leader of a foreign adversary over his own intelligence officials. Most of Trump’s advisers and cabinet officials were uncertain how to process what had just taken place. Some Trump senior aides said they felt physically ill watching it happen.



Tuesday, November 8, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt fourteen)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

Trump offered different explanations for Comey’s removal throughout the week. Initially the White House tried to paint the firing as coming at the recommendation of Rosenstein. In a private meeting with Russia’s foreign minister and ambassador, Trump volunteered that he had removed the “nut job” Comey and that doing so relieved “great pressure.” Then Trump gave an interview to NBC News anchor Lester Holt, during which he seemed to connect the firing to the Russia investigation. “In fact when I decided to just do it, I said to myself, I said, ‘You know, this Russia thing with Trump and Russia is a made-up story, it’s an excuse by the Democrats for having lost an election that they should have won,’ ” he said. But Trump’s answer was so clunky and at times incoherent that it wasn’t entirely clear that he was intending to say the investigation was the reason for the dismissal.

Comey’s firing set in motion a series of events that overwhelmed Trump’s presidency for the next two years. A week later, my colleague Michael Schmidt revealed that Comey had drafted a slew of secret memos about his encounters with the president, including the one in which Trump had indicated that Comey should end the Flynn investigation. It swiftly changed the view of Trump’s intentions among Democrats, media, and some Justice Department officials. With that pressure bearing down, in place of the recused Sessions, Rosenstein—who was not a Trump loyalist—named a special counsel to investigate not only the possibility of conspiracy between Russians and the Trump campaign, but whether Trump had attempted to obstruct the investigation by firing Comey.



Monday, November 7, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt thirteen)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

Kushner continued to engage with liberal groups who had hopes for a version of Trump that ultimately did not exist. One such overture was to David Plouffe, a former top adviser to Obama now working with Mark Zuckerberg–funded groups. Arriving in the West Wing to meet with Kushner, Plouffe looked around the room at what had once been his own work space and said to Kushner, “I love what you’ve done with the office.” Kushner looked blankly at Plouffe and said, “Oh, have you been here before?” Plouffe’s eyes traveled to the small television sets that had been embedded into the wall since he worked there. Why were they there? he asked. Kushner replied that his father-in-law was watching throughout the day, and he needed to know what Trump was seeing.



Sunday, November 6, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt twelve)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

Trump was the only modern president who had never met most of his senior advisers and cabinet appointees before he won the presidency; his three top White House aides—Priebus, Bannon, and Kushner—had never served in government either. He approached the new bureaucracy in much the same way he had a family-run business, demanding that employees sign agreements that would prevent them from ever speaking publicly about the experience. The White House counsel made clear to some staff that the contracts were not enforceable.



Saturday, November 5, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt eleven)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

On August 13, Alex Burns and I published a story about the latest stage of dysfunction in the Trump campaign. Those who had tried over the spring and early summer to focus the candidate—including getting him to read prepared speeches and avoid the off-the-cuff musings that caused so much trouble—had effectively given up. “Advisers who once hoped a Pygmalion-like transformation would refashion a crudely effective political showman into a plausible American president now increasingly concede that Mr. Trump may be beyond coaching,” we wrote.

Trump was infuriated by the article, tearing into Manafort after reading it. “You treat me like a baby,” Trump screamed at him. “Am I a fucking baby, Paul?”



Friday, November 4, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt ten)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

That Friday, while in Colorado for an event, Trump sat down with George Stephanopoulos to tape an interview that would air Sunday morning on This Week. Trump started out on a high, boasting how much larger television ratings had been for the Republicans’ convention than for the Democrats’. He had a feisty response when asked about the criticism he had received from Khizr Khan, whose son, a U.S. soldier, was killed in Iraq in 2004; Trump insinuated that the young man’s mother had not been permitted to speak because the family was Muslim. (In reality, she was just too overwhelmed by grief.) But his mood darkened fast once Stephanopoulos asked, “What exactly is your relationship with Vladimir Putin?”

When Trump said he had “no relationship with him,” Stephanopoulos responded by citing instances, including around the 2013 Miss Universe pageant, in which Trump had claimed otherwise. “Because he has said nice things about me over the years. I remember years ago, he said something—many years ago, he said something very nice about me,” Trump said. Stephanopoulos pushed on the inconsistency. “Well, I don’t know what it means by having a relationship,” he said. “I mean he was saying very good things about me, but I don’t have a relationship with him. I didn’t meet him. I haven’t spent time with him. I didn’t have dinner with him. I didn’t go hiking with him. I don’t know—and I wouldn’t know him from Adam except I see his picture and I would know what he looks like,” Trump said.

Stephanopoulos then turned to Trump’s finances. “You said you have no investments in Russia. But do you owe any money to Russian individuals and institutions?” he asked. No, Trump said definitively, maintaining—despite the significant outstanding loans on some of his properties—that he owed little to anyone of any nationality. The interview amounted to the most extensive and focused questioning Trump had faced on the topic of Russia after a campaign season in which he praised Putin and seemed to invite further cyberattacks during the election.



Thursday, November 3, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt nine)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

Seated around one of the gold-adorned tables in the main cabin, Corey Lewandowski told Trump that his tax returns were becoming an issue they needed a plan for. The press secretary, Hope Hicks, pointed out that every other Republican and Democratic candidate had put out their taxes and that the pressure would increase after a strong Super Tuesday performance. Trump reclined in his leather seat, then looked across the aisle at his former rival Chris Christie. “Romney made a huge mistake, releasing his taxes,” Trump observed, referring to the decision of the previous election’s Republican nominee, whose returns showed him paying a lower effective tax rate than many working-class Americans.

Trump thought for a second about how to “get myself out of this,” as he said. He leaned back, before snapping up to a sudden thought. “Well, you know, my taxes are under audit, I always get audited,” Trump said. Christie looked puzzled. “So what I mean is, well I could just say, ‘I’ll release them when I’m no longer under audit,’ ” Trump said. “ ’Cause I’ll never not be under audit.” There was no legal prohibition keeping Trump from putting them out, even if they were under audit, Christie pointed out. “But my lawyers,” Trump said. “I’m sure my lawyers and my counsel will tell me not to.” He told his bodyguard, Keith Schiller, to reach out to his assistant, Rhona Graff, once they landed. Almost immediately, he began citing the claim that he couldn’t possibly release his under-audit taxes.



Wednesday, November 2, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt eight)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

When all the results were in, Trump ended up with 24 percent of the vote, just over three points behind Texas senator Ted Cruz and edging out Florida senator Marco Rubio for second place. When Trump took the stage that night at an election-night party in West Des Moines, he was somewhat subdued, but startlingly gracious. “We finished second, and I want to tell you something, I am just honored,” Trump said before leaving for New Hampshire. He declined to speak to his Iowa-based staff, viewing them as failing him.

Within hours, it was clear that Trump had accepted nothing about the result. His equanimity about defeat had dissolved into fury. “It was stolen from me,” Trump told his advisers. For days thereafter, he called Iowa’s Republican chairman daily with an order to redo the vote, threatening to sue over what he called “fraud.” Trump fixated on a few perceived infractions by the winner, including a supposed dirty trick in which Cruz’s campaign disseminated a rumor at caucus locations that Carson was leaving the race. “One of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen,” Trump told a radio host. He ultimately spent much of the week before the New Hampshire primary complaining to the state’s voters that “Ted Cruz didn’t win Iowa, he stole it.”



Tuesday, November 1, 2022

the last book I ever read (Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America, excerpt seven)

from Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America by Maggie Haberman:

The most surprising part of that appeal was the apparently durable connection he was making with evangelicals, many of whom were Protestants. When Trump appeared in mid-January at Liberty University, the college founded by the politically influential televangelist Jerry Falwell, both sides of his peculiar rapport with religious conservatives were immediately visible. He spoke clunkily about matters of faith—attempting to read from the book Second Corinthians, Trump remarked, “Two Corinthians, 3:17, that’s the whole ballgame”—but that stuck with the more than ten thousand attendees less than the eagerness with which he appeared to relish conflict with their common foes. “Christianity, it’s under siege,” he began the speech.

Accompanying Trump that day was a young former ballerina named Ashley Byers who had attended one of his campaign events and interacted briefly with him there. She was suddenly invited to visit him at Mar-a-Lago. She then traveled with the Trump team to Liberty aboard the Trump plane, wearing a skirt that Trump aides saw as too short for the event, so one of them insisted on lending her a coat. Byers went largely unnoticed by the crowd. She later took an official role on the Trump campaign in Florida. (She met her husband during the 2016 campaign, and was later accused of shooting him to death over a custody dispute, which she claimed was in self-defense.)