My private speculation was that the folks at the Times decided that Judge Barrett's nomination was too much of an approximation to a political victory to allow Mr Trump to bask in its glory for long, hence the tax business yesterday. But what do I know? I see that the headline at the moment specifies 'tax avoidance', which anyone with a brain will attempt to accomplish, and as the people I pay attention to were saying yesterday, without being privy to the actual returns, that is likely the worst of it. Whether 'Billionaire Trump trying to minimize his taxes' bothers the voters at this stage of the game, I don't know; it can't be a good thing for the polling, anyway. May actually watch tomorrow's 'debate'. Or may not.
Dr Althouse this morning:
In other words, I think, people who are opposed to Mr Trump's re-election are excited to have another arrow in their quivers today; people who are supporting Mr Trump's re-election are shaking their heads at the nastiness and denying that such an arrow really exists. The imaginary New York Republican newspaper would have run the headline, 'No Russian Payments, No Tax Evasion'.
The 'Concert Hall' program at Klassikaraadio today is devoted to the composer Olav Ehala, who is 70 this year. Mainly film and theatre music, I think; in any event I'd never heard of him but will listen later on.
Time for Terce and cornbread baking (am using a different mix-- was momentarily intending to write 'recipe', as if I am being a serious baker and doing this from scratch, which would have been rather pathetic-- so must hope for the best) and breakfast.
Everyone on the radio seems to be chattering away this morning-- on Estonian Radio, WDR, Latvian Radio. Am going to begin listening to the 'Discover Weekly' playlist on Spotify and hope that at 1030 or 1100 I remember to switch to WDR for the Missa in angustia pestilentiae of Orazio Benevoli.
Post Sextam. I missed the Benevoli Missa but managed to turn the radio on in time to catch Domenico Scarlartti's Stabat Mater. A beautiful, sunny day with a temperature of 70°: I had gone out for a late morning spatiamentum and became confused about what time I was supposed to be the alert for, tsk.
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