My corporate overlords graciously lent me out this week. Here are the results:
Jamie Malanowski’s debut novel about a palace coup in the White House has some sizable flaws, but for all the preposterousness of the plot—which pivots around a bachelor tech genius lothario Vice President, Gordon Pope, who can only exist in the wish-fulfillment fantasies of Al Gore—The Coup still manages to excavate an ugly and hilarious truth about Washington: For a city of egotists and nation-builders, we’re far too easily, absurdly, tragically pleased.
DISCLAIMER ADDRESSED TO LOYAL SWAMPLAND COMMENTERS: There is no discussion in this review of Bush impeachment, Cheney impeachment, the US attorneys scandal, the war, Scooter Libby, David Vitter , Fred Thompson or pretty much anything else you think we should be writing about except whatever we’re writing about at the moment. Also, it is not serious despite the fact that these are very, very serious times.