the White House Press Secretary to President Donald Trump, was refused service at the Red Hen restaurant in Lexington, Virginia based on “moral grounds.” The owner, Stephanie Wilkinson, simply did not want to serve somebody she found so politically offensive, and so she didn’t.
Since then the Red Hen restaurant in Washington, DC, which has no affiliation with the one in Lexington, has been getting attacked by both left and right on social media.
Keep in mind, this is not the restaurant that refused Sanders service. No matter, even after they explicitly stated that this was all a case of mistaken identity and they had nothing to do with the Huckabee Affair, people still demanded that they take a political position on the matter. The Red Hen responded by saying that businesses in DC are prohibited from discriminating against people for political affiliation because they are in a federal district. This wasn’t good enough. People still pressed them. Okay, we know you’re not the restaurant that was involved, and we know that you are subject to different laws and therefore don’t have a choice to make in the matter, but what if you did have a choice? What if you were the restaurant she walked in to? What would you do then?
And so it goes.
And now Donald Trump is tweeting furiously at the Red Hen in Virginia ( the right one) in the hopes of destroying their business.
The owner, likely seeing in herself a patriotic exemplar, stands by her act of micro resistance while the pitchfork and torch crowd– from both the left and right–gather, eager to burn some shit down.
So surreal and terrible and hilarious and scary.
It’s amazing to me just how quickly things are reduced to the symbolic. All the nuance, history, vulnerability and complexity that informs a person– or a restaurant, even–are swept to the side, reduced to little more than the baleful projections of a furious, roiling, unconscious. The appetite right now is for enemies rather than friends, so if you’re caught in the public eye you become what that public needs you to be, not who you might actually be.
And so when I see Sarah Huckabee Sanders tossed about in the media, I think of Monica Lewinsky.
They really look alike.
. 
I mean, they really do.
But beyond that, remember also how Monica Lewinsky was treated by the press and public? She was despised– crucified, by both the left and right, for the sins of Bill Clinton. Honest to God, I think it’s a miracle she didn’t jump out a window. But she survived, admirably, in fact, and it’s as if her ghost is now visible in “the perfect smokey eye” of Sarah Huckabee, and the antipathy that Lewinsky withstood is now being visited upon her. Both of them appear as privileged white girls, Beckys, really, and their ambition, greased by a system that favours people like them, propelled them right next to the most powerful man in the world, and this, this seems to be something our society simply cannot abide.
Ask Hillary Clinton.
And so these women rise up into the culture like cautionary tales. Reduced to cartoon figures, they float slowly above us, soft targets, while we, the rabble beneath cast stones and curses. If you’re a woman and your cultural centrality can in any way be traced back to a powerful man, you will be hated for it– by men, and by women, it would seem. This is America, and if you’re a woman and you fly too close to the sun, you’re declared a witch and you’re going to get burned, whether you deserve it or not.
]]>The team was stripped of federal protections for six of its trademarks, including that of their cheerleaders, the Redskinettes. Now this doesn’t mean that the team is going to have to change its name any time soon, but it is one more example of the ever-gathering disapproval that’s raining down upon them. Apologists can argue all they want about the true etymology of the word Redskin, or that the name is meant as an honorific rather than a slur, but it’s irrelevant.
The Native American community, a small and not particularly powerful minority in a vast and powerful nation, have made it clear that they find it an offensive racial pejorative, and that in and of itself should be sufficient motivation for Daniel Snyder, the white, billionaire owner of the team, to step into the world the rest of us live in, or at least the world we hope to live in, and change the name.
I have come up with a few suggestions, which I now offer:
1. The Washington Cherry Blossoms
2. The Washington Indigenous People
3. The Washington 1%
4. The Washington Spooks
5. The Beltway Snipers
6. The Washington House of Lies
7. The Washington Interns (Defensive line known as The Stained Blue Dress)
8. The Washington Anthrax Attack
9. The Washington Department of Doom (Defensive line known as Homeland Security)
10. The Washington Freedom Fighters
Monica Lewinsky 40:
Dear Monica:
I just want to say that it’s amazing and impressive that you’ve lived this long. I think everybody in the media was sure you’d die in a self-loathing pit of drugs, despair and faded memories, but no! You took up knitting! That is completely awesome, and I wish more borderline celebrity types would do this. MC Hammer? He should be knitting. Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a most excellent and happy 40th and continued success in living an anonymous and not disastrously adjusted life! You’re doing great!
Lynda Carter 62
Dear Lynda:
You probably know what you meant to me when I was a boy growing up, so I won’t get into that here. But sweet Jesus, you were hot. My friend Ian used to hump the TV when your show Wonder Woman came on. Can you imagine that? I tell you, young boys will put their dicks on anything. Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have written that to you, it’s kind of gross, I guess. But I don’t know, maybe it makes you feel kind of proud, too? You are getting old, after all. I don’t mind admitting that women, even Wonder Women (LOL) have always confused me. Anyway, you’re beautiful on the inside and out, and all of us are very proud of you for being a spokesperson for Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I’m on a gluten-free diet, myself. Happy birthday!!
Kevin Spacey 53
Dear Kevin:
I have to say, and you’re now old enough to hear it, you’re a VERY over-rated actor. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a happy birthday, you should, but you just need to stop hamming it up so much.
Elisabeth Moss 31
Dear Elisabeth:
I just want you to know that I think that Peggy Olson, your character on Mad Men, is made of steel. She takes no shit!! I mean, it’s a man’s world where she works, but Peggy stands up for herself, changes with the times and learns how to dress! It’s awesome. How does it feel to have your own doll? Pretty cool, I bet. I’d like to have my own action figure. He’d be playing table tennis. Do you know Jennifer Lawrence? Happy birthday!
Selena Gomez 21
Dear Selena:
You know what’s weird? It’s weird that on your birthday I was riding my bicycle by a fancy hotel in Toronto that was being swarmed by gitchy teen girls in really short shorts all waiting to see Justin Bieber, the guy you dumped. What a bunch of losers! Like you, I’m not a Belieber, and you know what? I’m old enough to be your father but still find you really sexy! Funny, eh? Happy birthday, Selena, may your 20s be wild, unpredictable and very experimental!
