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‘A world elsewhere,” continued: Ted Cruz and ‘Coriolanus’

Much has been made recently about Ted Cruz going Marc Antony – the Roman general, not the singer – on The Donald at the Republican National Convention in a speech in which he congratulated the Trumpster but declined to endorse him. This sent some political and literary experts alike scurrying to Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar,” in which Antony – a Caesar ally who is waylaid by the conspirators on the day of Caesar’s assassination – turns the tables on the assassins in his famous “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” eulogy.

“I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him,” he says, but praise him he does, however subtly, sealing the murderers’ fates.

The analogy here is to Cruz’s call to “vote your conscience,” thereby undermining Trump’s bid for party unity. ...

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Hair-brained

This has been a fabulous season for hair.

Let me clarify – not actual hair, which summer wreaks havoc on, turning fine locks limp and coarse tresses frizzy. No, despite its Donner Party-quality snowstorms, winter remains hair’s best season – low humidity, don’t you know.

But this is proving to be the summer of metaphoric hair. First, we have one of the great hair performers in history – Donald Trump, who accepted the nomination for president of the United States Thursday at a Republican National Convention that was by turns angry, hate-filled, surreal and meh. Then The New York Times – which often covers the city as if it were a foreign country – expressed surprise at some men here spending $800 on a haircut. The article was accompanied by a photograph of Roger Federer, whose stylists include Tim Rogers of Sally Hershberger’s downtown studio. ...

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Kasich goes his own way

Once upon a time, Gov. Krispy Kreme was my CPB – Chief Pretend Boyfriend. I imagined myself under the boardwalk down by the sea-ee-eeee yeah, on a blanket with my baby, swooning in passion as the waves crashed upon our bodies to the beat of The Boss blaring from my Hello Kitty boom box. We were like Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster in “From Here to Eternity” – if Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster were two beached whales, that is.

But what with Bridgegate and the capitulation to The Donald, it’s become harder to sustain the fantasy of being with my tubby little Luv Guv. So I banished Gov. Krispy Kreme from my heart, and instead promoted my WPB (Weekend Pretend Boyfriend), Rafael Nadal, to CPB status. ...

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The hair up there: Trump and the age of transition

We live in wondrous, terrifying, complex, fascinating times. In the United States, we are about to embark on two political conventions – the Republican July 18-21 in Cleveland and the Democratic July 25-29 in Philadelphia – that offer productive change and stasis, the future and the past, though not in the ways you might imagine.

The motif of the presidential campaign is that Hillary Clinton, the Democratic presidential nominee, represents the same old-same old inside Washington, while Donald Trump, the Republican presidential nominee, is the fresh, brash outlier. But in fact, we’ve been looking in a mirror, and it’s the opposite. Clinton and the Dems, with their inclusive approach to race, gender and ethnicity, signal the future, and Trump – with his appeal to angry, white, working-class men – the past. ...

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Tebow won’t be under center for The Donald

The deathless Deflategate is back as the Second U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals has decided not to rehear Tom Brady’s case, having already ruled against him.

Which means Tommy’ll have to stalk Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the rest of the Supremes or face the music of the four-game suspension for his alleged role in deflating footballs in the 2015 AFC Championship. And don’t think he won’t take this all the way to the Supreme Court. Guy’s got an ego the size of Texas.

In other Brady buzz, he won’t be a speaker at the Republican Convention for his good – and equally modest – friend Donald Trump. The lineup for the convention – which begins Monday in Cleveland – is hardly stellar, but one name stood out, Tim Tebow’s. ...

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Brexit: C’est moi?

Another day, another Brexit drama, another example – or two or three – of political cupidity and stupidity.

By now, Brexit buffs know that BoJo – alias Boris Johnson, the Brit Donald Trump, how I love how Maureen Dowd describes them maliciously as “prolific authors” – is out, having been stabbed in the back by erstwhile supporter Michael Gove, who decided he wanted to be a king rather than a kingmaker and thus run for prime minister himself.

Personally, I think Gove is barking up the wrong bamboo and that Home Secretary Theresa May is going to be the next PM. ...

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Going his way: Sandy Koufax and the other ‘Last Innocents’

When I was a child, I raced home one day from school to turn on the TV to see a 20-year-old pitcher who would soon become a favorite, Jim Palmer of the Baltimore Orioles, outduel Sandy Koufax of the Los Angeles Dodgers in Game 2 of the 1966 World Series. It wasn’t even close. Dodger centerfielder Willie Davis lost two fly balls in the October sun and the Dodgers, defending Series’ champ, went down 6-0, losing the series in four straight.

It was the last game Koufax ever pitched for afterward he announced his retirement from baseball, having battled traumatic arthritis along with the drugs that kept it at bay for a number of years. He was just 30 years old. ...

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