By Madeline Barry A new brand of sound has appeared on the Internet since the onslaught of the Coronavirus. This particular genre of music is rather niche, in that it focuses entirely on the current pandemic. Some songs are angry; calling attention to frayed political parties and crooked leaders, while others are lighthearted parodies. Nevertheless, while the tunes differ in tone, they all seek to memorialize the feelings experienced by many during this crisis. DAVID ROVICS Corona Virus Climate Catastrophe Fascist Empire 2020 Blues Massacree Proud anarchist and indie songwriter David Rovics, who advertises his “Songs of Social Significance” on his personal website and YouTube page, takes protest music to a new level with his numerous pandemic-related songs. In the video to his song, “Corona Virus Climate Catastrophe Fascist Empire 2020 Blues Massacre,” released March 2, Rovics, with a stained black hoodie and an acoustic guitar, lambasts capitalism and the response from certain politicians to the virus. He sings, “As if the end times weren't right here/ Just go shopping, do not fear” (De Blasio anyone?), and at one point invokes a dictator, “Reactionaries on the rise / Mussolini reprise.” In the song description on his YouTube page, Rovics explains “Listening only to NPR's relatively sugar-coated version of the news on the way to take my teenage daughter to school recently, she dryly commented, ‘we are so screwed.’ This certainly would often appear to be the case.” He reiterates this dreary outlook in the song’s chorus, “It’s 2020 – the decade's just begun/ With any luck, we just might make it to 2021”. Other Coronavirus related material streaming from Rovics’s YouTube account include the song, “Once this Pandemic is Over” and an hour long “Pandemic Songwriting” video. BENJAMIN GIBBARD Life in Quarantine Benjamin Gibbard, Seattle resident and lead singer of the Grammy-nominated indie band, Death Cab for Cutie, and also of The Postal Service, released his new song “Life in Quarantine” on March 20. The song was released on the website of Seattle newspaper The Stranger as part of its “Message to the City” series, which features videos contributed by well-known Seattle residents ranging from small business owners to local activists. In the song, Gibbard, accompanied by his guitar, sings slowly about desolate Seattle streets. “The sidewalks are empty/ the bars and cafes too/ the streetlights only changing because they ain’t got nothing better to do.” A familiar scene, indeed. About halfway through the song, the lyrics take a darker turn: “People have a way of going crazy/ when they think they’ll be dead in a month”. He calls these the “days of no guarantees” and repeats “No one’s going anywhere soon”. The song is available to stream on Spotify, and according to the online publication, Vulture, Gibbard will be donating proceeds from the song to various Seattle-based organizations. One of these is Aurora Commons, a nonprofit organization that aids the homeless population of the city by offering them a space to eat, commune, and connect. For more Benjamin Gibbard tunes, check out the Death Cab for Cutie Instagram page. Gibbard is very active on the page and frequently streams his music via the app’s Live Stream option. THE ROLLING STONES Living in A Ghost Town The Rolling Stones have released their first original song in eight years. Titled “Living in A Ghost Town,” the song was actually written in 2019, but because of its eerie relevance as well as the cancellation of the band’s upcoming tour, it was released on April 23. The original lyrics were modified to be more sensitive to the times, Jagger explained in an interview with Zane Lowe for Apple Music. The final version of the song was recorded in isolation. In typical Rolling Stones rock and roll fashion, the song laments being unable to go out, have fun, and party. “Living in this ghost town/ Ain't having any fun/ If I want a party/ It's a party of one.” PARODIES CORONALOLA: A CORONAVIRUS KINKS PARODY CoronaLola: A Coronavirus Kinks Parody On the opposite end of the pandemic song spectrum are the variety of Coronavirus parodies that have appeared on YouTube. One such parody is “CoronaLola: A Coronavirus Kinks Parody” written and produced by Hugh Fink, who is known for his work on This Is 40 (2012), and Saturday Night Live (1995-2019). The video was released on his YouTube account, Hugh on First, on April 16. The song, sung to the tune of the Kinks song, “Lola”, as the title suggests, features funny lyrics (Fink brilliantly rhymes vaccine with Hydroxychloroquine) and multiple samplings of familiar news clips. These include guest appearances from a number of Coronavirus skeptics such as Jesse Watters, Sean Hannity, and Rush Limbaugh, as well as snippets from President Trump’s speeches. At one point, the music plays and Trump’s voice declares, “I don’t take responsibility for this at all” and “What do I know? I’m not a doctor.” You’ll recognize a few more familiar faces, including a segment taken from the interview with a proud Florida spring breaker who determinedly said, “I’m not gonna let it stop me from partying.” Even the Charmin bear makes an appearance. Look out for the images of homemade hazmat suits, and parents picking up their kids from school (pre-school closures of course) spraying their children with Lysol. But it is Governor Cuomo who steals the show. “I’m not the world’s most political man/ But I know a good man who should be President/ His name is Cuomo/ Cuo, Cuo, Cuo Cuomo”. ANDY RAINBOW ANDY! - A Randy Rainbow Song Parody Andrew Cuomo is the star of another pandemic parody video by YouTuber Randy Rainbow. “ANDY! A Rainbow Song Parody” is sung to the tune of the Grease song “Sandy”. This time however, instead of watching John Travolta sulk at the drive-in movie theater, we see Randy Rainbow grace the screen in a variety of fun 1950’s themed costumes. He praises Governor Cuomo, “Oh Andy, baby, someday, when COVID’s not a thing/ If we’re on Earth, for what it’s worth, I hope they make you King/ You run my state/ While I gain weight/ With grace and dignity/ Oh please, be my dad/ Oh Andy!” It’s worth mentioning that Andrew isn’t the only Cuomo that Randy appreciates. Chris makes a cameo, too. CHRIS MANN Hello (from the Inside) An Adele Parody CHRIS MANN My Corona Adele fans will enjoy Chris Mann’s song, “Hello (from the Inside) An Adele Parody” streaming from his YouTube page, Chris Mann Music. The video begins with an image of Mann peering out of his window, palms pressed against the glass. He sings, “Hello it’s me/ I’m in California dreaming about going out to eat/ just a burger/ with cheese/ or a shaken margarita, baby back ribs from Chile’s. As the song continues, Mann’s desperation increases. His face gets closer to the window; his nose practically flattened against the glass and his palms claw at the thin layer separating him from the outside world. “Hello to Corona Life/ They’re saying stay home till July/ Jesus Christ, Almighty/ Can you please send me strength/ I’m so sick and tired of my own goddamn face.” Perhaps the best part of this video is Mann’s ability to hit the high notes (watch out, Adele!). In addition to this pandemic parody, Mann has a song and video titled, “My Corona” sung to the tune of— you guessed it— “My Sharona.” ROY ZIMMERMAN The Liar Tweets Tonight “The Liar Tweets Tonight” is the most recent of these satirical videos. Roy Zimmerman, leftist singer and songwriter, released the tune on his YouTube page on April 21. The video stars Zimmerman and The ReZisters, a crew of vocal folks of all ages. It was made in collaboration with the Raging Grannies of Mendocino, whom the Mendocino Voice described as “a group of mature female musical activists who show up and make fun of political hypocrisy wherever they can.” Sung to the tune of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” “The Liar Tweets Tonight” features Zimmerman and the aforementioned groups replacing the famous chorus, “Ohi’mbube, Ohi'mbube ” with “Vote him away, vote him away”. The anti-Trump sentiment is strong in this one. “In the White House, the mighty White House, the liar tweets tonight/ In the West Wing, the self-obsessed wing/ the liar tweets tonight.” Fans of the Netflix series “The Tiger King” will appreciate the comparisons of Trump to Joe Exotic, aka Don Exotic Lyin King.” Zimmerman invites anyone who wants to participate in the next virtual sing-in video, to sign up for his mailing list: http://www.royzimmerman.com Madeline Barry is a high school English teacher at Northside Charter High School in North Williamsburg, Brooklyn. She teaches three sections of senior English and two introductory Latin classes.  Figuring out virtual learning, listening to music, and writing for The Insider has kept her semi-sane during the quarantine.

From Operavore, the WQXR Blog Apr 22, 2020 · by Fred Plotkin I began drafting this article of ideas about musical connections to the 50th anniversary of Earth Day months before the coronavirus turned the world upside down. I will mention, just in passing, that while the pandemic is cataclysmic in human and economic terms, one silver lining is that, with most of humanity sheltering in place, the natural world is getting a break from our ruthless depredations. Much of the world’s air is cleaner because plane travel is down 90%. Historically polluted waterways seem cleaner and fish are returning, including the canals of Venice (where the sediment is settling due to minimal boat traffic, making the water look cleaner). Deserted beaches from Costa Rica to Thailand are seeing record high levels of egg-laying by leatherback sea turtles, which have been endangered for at least two decades. It is not all positive though: a disturbing number of discarded face masks and gloves are ending up in some oceans, and we must deal with that immediately. How we see the world informs our values about how we treat it. I have been “green” since I was a small child, influenced by the Native American folk tales that impressed upon me the idea that Earth is our mother and we are her custodians. This made more sense to me than the Bible’s command in Genesis 1:28, “God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’” I have always seen myself as one of the many creatures that share the planet, rather than one who would want to fill it with humans and dominate other species and exploit natural resources. Over the course of my lifetime, the warning term of choice, and its inherent implications, has changed — ecology, environmentalism, greenhouse effect, global warming, climate change. A new one will surely follow. We are talking about the survival of our planet, as well as all of the species that inhabit it and share it. There is no more important cause. The person I most admired as a child (and still revere) was Rachel Carson(1907–64) whose book The Silent Spring should be required reading for everyone as the guide for developing a sensibility about our world and keeping it safe. Her earliest writing was about oceans and, even though she did not see or smell an ocean until she was a young woman, her work on this topic is equal in quality to the greatest literature. Almost all of my life choices and behaviors (apart from a regrettable carbon footprint due to too much air travel) have been determined by my desire to tread lightly and leave the planet better than I found it. As someone who has had opera in his life since I was in a playpen, I have had its music in my imagination and it became a soundtrack to envision imagery and action in its stories. To understand what I mean, listen to the Forest Murmurs from Wagner’s Siegfried. Close your eyes as you listen and see what imagery floods into your mind’s eye. In fact, no work in all of music is so rich in references to the Earth in all of its beauty, fascination, and raw power as Der Ring des Nibelungen. I wrote about this last year. My concept of a “green” Ring is hardly new. On April 10, 1993, just before the Metropolitan Opera embarked on a presentation of the four-opera cycle, I wrote an op-ed article in The New York Timespositing that the environmentally-minded Al Gore would be my Siegfried. I was an adviser to Arizona Opera in 1995–96 when that company did a Native American–influenced Ring in gorgeous outdoor settings in the northern part of the state. The Ring as a cautionary parable about protecting the environment speaks to audiences today as well. The current Frank Castorf production at Bayreuth is perhaps too literal in its depiction of gasoline (petrol) as the gold that is so coveted, but whose theft from the Rhine river creates chaos in the world. Much more subtle and effective is Francesca Zambello’s vision that sees greed and disrespect for our planet as the inevitable path to our destruction and, perhaps, renewal led by wise and courageous women. In it I am reminded of Carson’s words: “There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” Zambello’s production is shared by the Washington National Opera and the San Francisco Opera, and I would gladly see it again. The biggest caution about what happens when the gold is stolen from the Rhine and laws of nature and society are not followed comes from Erda, the Goddess and Protector of the Earth, who rises from the ground to admonish chief god Wotan: “Weiche, Wotan, Weiche!” (Be very careful, Wotan!) I think of 17-year-old Greta Thunberg, the Swedish climate crisis activist, as the Erda for our times as she sounds the alarm on the disaster we face if all nations (but especially the industrial powers) do not act immediately and courageously. In 2019 she was named Time magazine’s person of the year. A piece of wisdom I have always adhered to came from pioneering naturalist John Muir (1838–1914): “When you tug on a single thing in the Universe, you find that it is attached to everything else.” It’s an elegant way of saying what we know but do not always acknowledge — we are all connected in palpable ways as well as unexpected ones. Which brings me to the superb Swedish opera singer Malena Ernman. I have adored her artistry since I first heard her in 2008 in Paris in Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas. Here you can watch the whole opera but, for now, look at her perform “When I am Laid in Earth,” popularly known as “Dido’s Lament.” You might not know that Ernman’s daughter is none other than Greta Thunberg. When your child has that level of fame and scrutiny (which includes being dissed by the President of the United States), even accomplished parents must adjust. Thunberg has asked her mother not to fly anymore. The consequence of this means that Ernman must seek work closer to home. Well before COVID-19, I was reflecting on how opera companies can reduce their environmental impact and, especially, the carbon footprint that comes with people who fly many thousands of miles per year. Materials used to make scenery and costumes have been made cleaner and healthier than the past. Different kinds of lighting now reduce energy consumption. But the most important component of an opera company, of course, are the people who make the music. The orchestra and chorus typically live locally. The big question, and Malena Ernman is the most conspicuous example, is whether we want to think seriously about using mostly singers who are locally sourced or live within a manageable range. The New York area and the northeastern United States is a good place to start. We have so many fabulous singers nearby who could appear at the Met, other New York companies, and at those in Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, and New England. There are excellent conductors, coaches and conservatories as well. Other nuclei can form elsewhere. Atlanta, for example, has become the home for many fine singers in recent years. They can work in much of the South. Texas has the resources to do this as well, as do a collection of Midwestern cities including Minneapolis, Des Moines, St. Louis, Chicago, Indianapolis, Cincinnati, Detroit, and Pittsburgh. Most of the Midwestern states have outstanding music schools, especially at the universities of Indiana and Michigan, as well as the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music. Europe, with its excellent rail service, can have a similar arrangement. An artist can live in Paris, Geneva, Verona, Munich, Prague, Vienna, Amsterdam, or Copenhagen and get to most theaters on the continent in a day. The United Kingdom and Ireland can do this as well, with the benefit of having superb trains to bring artists to and from Paris, Brussels, and Amsterdam. I recognize that there are questions, adjustments, and compromises that need to be made. The first is that we Americans must finally step up and fulfill the promises long made by politicians of both parties to improve our infrastructure, starting with high-speed railways. This could be part of a 21st Century New Deal to stimulate economic rebirth from the ashes of our pandemic. These trains could zoom up the Pacific Coast, all over Texas to Oklahoma and New Orleans, and link the Midwestern cities I named above. This will benefit all Americans, not just music lovers. Then there is the obvious fact that audiences want to hear the finest artists from everywhere. The Met and other top American companies regularly feature wonderful singers from Europe, and our great singers are much in demand in Europe. My answer is that we can adapt by learning from the past. A century ago, Mahler, Toscanini, Caruso, and many others would arrive in North America by ship for a season (not necessarily a whole opera season, but what the musician would call his own season). A more recent example was Renata Tebaldi, who would sail from Europe for her American season, complete with clothes and other things she wanted. Tebaldi would do several roles in her Met season rather than just coming to sing Tosca or Aïda. I know that Cecilia Bartoli does not like flying, and I think it is time for her to come by ship for a North American season. This might mean adjusting when companies perform. Singers with children want to stay close to home during the school year, but a European artist can come to the States with their families in early summer when the children are on vacation. Yes, I know, ship travel is not always kind to the environment (though some cruise lines are responsible world citizens). This needs to be completely revisited, as does hygiene post-COVID, but I assure you that will happen if that industry is to survive. What I am suggesting about opera can also be applied to orchestras, chamber music, dance, theater, and all forms of live performing arts. Form local and regional consortia of companies, productions, and performers, and also encourage artists who live far away to consider creating “seasons” every year or so on another continent. This cannot all happen right away, but I am thinking about the long-term health of the industry. We can and must be nimble and flexible, and that goes for audiences too. Stay home for part of each summer and patronize local and nearby festivals. I invite you to make suggestions about how to better protect our planet while also filling it with all forms of inspiring, soul-gratifying beauty. As Rachel Carson said, “those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life.” FRED PLOTKIN is one of America’s foremost experts on opera and has distinguished himself in many fields as a writer, speaker, consultant and as a compelling teacher. He is an expert on everything Italian, the person other so-called Italy experts turn to for definitive information.  Fred discovered the concept of "The Renaissance Man" as a small child and has devoted himself to pursuing that ideal as the central role of his life. In a “Public Lives” profile inThe New York Timeson August 30, 2002, Plotkin was described as "one of those New York word-of-mouth legends, known by the cognoscenti for his renaissance mastery of two seemingly separate disciplines: music and the food of Italy." In the same publication, on May 11, 2006, it was written that "Fred is a New Yorker, but has the soul of an Italian."

By Gwen Cooper Hello again, fellow shut-ins! We’re back for Part 2 of a three-part list of binge-worthy authors. Everyone on this list has written at least five novels or story collections that are independently worth reading. I’m trying to avoid authors likely to be on your radar already, either due to their status as a bona fide titan of the canon (I’m looking at you, Proust) or because they’ve appeared on a U.S. bestseller list within the last few years. Let’s get to it! P.G. Wodehouse If you’ve read one “Bertie and Jeeves” story, you’ve read them all—but if you haven’t read any, then you’re missing out on one of the all-time great comedy duos. Set in the 1920s, these tales are comforting for the same reason your mom’s chicken soup is comforting: because it’s always the same. Here’s the typical setup: The aristocratic but doltish Bertie Wooster blunders into some sort of social snafu (thus rousing the anger of a persnickety lady friend, his gorgon of an aunt, or both), and his brilliant, if laconic, manservant Jeeves arrives at the very last moment to pull his fat out of the fire in a thoroughly ingenious way. If you can make it all the way through a “Bertie and Jeeves” collection without smiling once, it’s possible that you have no soul. Start with: Any of them. It literally makes no difference. You can skip: See above. My favorite: Jeeves and the Yule-Tide Spirit and Other Stories—Mostly because I read this cover to cover in one sitting the first time I ever went to London, and it inspires fond memories. James M. Cain Waaaaaaaay at the other end of the feel-good spectrum comes James M. Cain, that terse traverser of the dark human heart. Cain is one of those writers who never uses two words where one will do, and the result is prose that grips you tight and speeds you breathlessly through crime-soaked noir masterpieces. Cain may have been one of the best Depression-era and postwar chroniclers of what the American Dream looks like when it turns ugly, which makes him an especially pertinent read right now. Not to mention he’ll give your newly cloistered lifestyle a much-needed infusion of unsavory gents and dishy dames with a nose for trouble and legs for days. Start with: The Postman Always Rings Twice—Then watch the movie. Both of them. You’ll remember it as one of your very best quarantine days. You can skip: Double Indemnity—Even Cain was the first to admit that his original novel was far inferior, in terms of both dialogue and plot twists, to the Billy Wilder/Raymond Chandler masterpiece based on it. My favorite: Mildred Pierce—Twisted, fascinating, and (all due respect to Joan Crawford) so much better than the wan and moralizing first movie it inspired. Helen Oyeyemi Helen Oyeyemi is, quite simply, the most exciting new writer I’ve discovered in the last ten years. Full stop. I’m actually going to quote extensively here from the Los Angeles Review of Books, because they say it better than I could: “[Oyeyemi] might be the only contemporary author for whom it’s not hyperbole to claim she’s sui generis, and I don’t think it’s a stretch either to say she’s a genius, as opposed to talented or newsworthy or relevant or accomplished, each of her novels daring more in storytelling than the one before. After reading any of her novels or her short story collection, you emerge as if from a dream, your sense of how things work pleasurably put out of order.” A wildly simplistic overview would be to say that Oyeyemi riffs on well-known fairy and folk tales with bold and surprising results. That’s selling her short, though. Just read her—you’ll be incredibly glad you did. Start with: Mr. Fox—Many writers have toyed with the whole “author’s creation comes to life and the two interact” motif, but almost none to such gorgeous and startling effect as Oyeyemi does here. You can skip: None. Skip nothing. This woman is freakishly talented. My favorite: What is Not Yours is Not Yours—This dazzling collection of interconnected stories, once I’d finished reading it, left me incapable of starting another book for a full week. It was that good. Anthony Trollope One of my very favorite authors and, in my opinion, unfairly denied a place among other Victorian-era British greats like Charles Dickens or George Eliot. I love a sprawling, chatty writer, and Trollope fits that bill perfectly—and further brings to bear a keen sense of humor, a deep insight into human nature, and the ability to keep any number of plots and subplots spinning over the course of slender 200-page novels as well as 800-page doorstoppers. Whether you’re reading a long Trollope or a short one, however, you’re always guaranteed an easy and engaging read, along with the inescapable feeling that you’re spending time among real-life people whom you’ve gotten to know very, very well. Start with: Barchester Towers—Dive right in with Book 2 of Trollope’s Barsetshire series (it’s okay if you haven’t read Book 1). One of the flat-out funniest books I’ve ever read, and thick enough to keep you occupied for days. You can skip: The Prime Minister—Book 5 of Trollope’s 6-book Palliser series, and uncharacteristically joyless and tough to slog through. Hey—when you write 50-plus novels, there are bound to be some clunkers! My favorite: A close call between Barchester Towers and The Way We Live Now. But I’ll say The Way We Live Now, because its well-told tale of financial chicanery is—despite having been written 140 years ago—truly timeless, making it one of the most aptly titled novels of all times. Gwen Cooper is the New York Times bestselling author of the memoirs Homer's Odyssey: A Fearless Feline Tale, or How I Learned About Love and Life with a Blind Wonder Cat; My Life in a Cat House: True Tales of Love, Laughter, and Living with Five Felines; and Spray Anything, among numerous other titles. Her work has been published in more than two-dozen languages. She is a frequent speaker at shelter fundraisers, donates 10% of her royalties from Homer's Odyssey to organizations that serve abused, abandoned, and disabled animals, and has raised nearly $1,000,000 for rescue organizations worldwide. Her forthcoming “Homer Whodunit” cozy mystery series debuts in July 2020 with Book #1: You Only Live Nine Times. Gwen lives in New Jersey with her husband, Laurence. She also lives with her two perfect cats--Clayton "the Tripod" and his litter-mate, Fanny--who aren't impressed with any of it.

By Mickey Davis I have been in a very dark mood, so I painted a bouquet of dead flowers. So peaceful, so stiff, so still. Reflects my outlook perfectly in this time of pandemic. Actually, I am often in a dark mood, a very dark place: I guess I like dead things. People are plant food on two legs, walking through 80 or so years of light and top-of-the-food chain consumption before becoming dark and decaying in the ground and giving back all the nutrients they once wrested from the earth. It's a brief moment of sunshine surrounded by an eternity of darkness and stillness on either side. How did Willy the Shake put it - life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. So here's to dead flowers! They get the last laugh - they will no longer decay, are impervious to disease, feel no pain, and will never ask for water or nutrients. And they will remain that way forever, as long as the cleaning lady doesn't throw them out. I am a painter in the realist tradition who is based in New York City on the Upper West Side. During the warm weather I like to paint in Central Park, and during the winter I do still life and work from photographs. I do photo retouching for a fashion brand to earn a living, or when things get really desperate, I rob a bank. Or beg on the street corner.

By Polly Halfkenny Memories. The satisfaction of punching the dough down after the first rise. The tantalizing smell of bread baking in the oven. The taste when just out of the oven slathered with butter. So why not bake my own bread now that I am indoors except for a brisk walk in the park at dawn? Nice idea. But not so easy to execute. No yeast, little flour, and no bread pan. My glass bread pan was broken long ago. I had about two cups of white flour. No whole wheat flour at all. Some molasses and white sugar, but the brown sugar was hard as a rock. And I was no longer going out after my walk so shopping had to be online. I finally was able to buy a pound of instant yeast on Amazon, enough for a year or more. One of my neighbors gave me two pounds of white flour. I sent a message on the listserv in my building asking if anyone had one or more bread pans I could borrow. I received six offers within the hour, including one from my next door neighbor who left two at my front door. My first experiment was banana bread. I had ordered bananas as part of an order from Fresh Direct, a grocery delivery service, (back when it was possible to get a delivery date) and had three very ripe ones remaining of the bunch of six. The recipe called for dark brown sugar. Google instructions said hard brown sugar could be softened in the microwave. It took at least 20 minutes covered by a damp paper towel to get 1/2 cup of brown sugar. The rest was easy. Mashing bananas, adding flour, baking powder and flavoring, popping in the oven and tasting before it was even cool. It was gone in two days. So much for staying fit. I next made a loaf of whole wheat bread. After several weeks of trying on Instacart, another online delivery service, I was able to get five pounds each of unbleached white flour and whole wheat flour. The dough was very stiff and hard to mix but punching it down after the first rise was as satisfying as I remembered. Kneading the dough was great exercise for body and soul. The smells from the oven made me think of my Mom’s baking. And the first slice slathered with real butter tasted as good as it smelled. It made wonderful toast. Not sure what I will make next. My neighbor needed her pans back so she could make banana bread. My new bread pans arrived in the mail yesterday. They have been in the hall for the requisite 24 hours so I can bring them into the apartment today. Hmmmmm. What to do now? Banana Bread By Julia Moskin; New York Times Cooking YIELD: 1 loaf TIME: 1 hour 15 minutes Here is an easy way to use up the bananas on the countertop, or brown ones thrown in the back of the freezer. Don’t overmix the ingredients and make sure the bananas are very ripe. FOR THE BREAD 1/4 pound cool butter (1 stick), more for greasing the pan 3/4 cup dark brown sugar (I used 1/2 cup) 2 eggs, at room temperature 2-1/3 cups very ripe bananas (I used 3 very large ones which made just enough) 2 cups all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/4 teaspoon salt I added a teaspoon of vanilla to the batter FOR THE TOPPING 3 tablespoons chopped walnuts or pecans 1 tablespoon granulated or course sugar 1/8 teaspoon cinnamon Step 1 Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease a 9-by-5-inch loaf pan. Using electric mixer, cream butter until smooth and fluffy. Add sugar and cream together 2 minutes more. One at a time, mix in eggs. Mix in bananas until only small bumps remain. Step 2 Stir dry ingredients together and mix into banana mixture just until combined. Pour into prepared pan. If making topping, stir ingredients together and sprinkle over batter. (I did not make the topping or add any nuts to the batter, which you could.) Step 3 Bake about 55 to 65 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool in pan 10 minutes, then turn out onto wire rack and let cool completely before wrapping tightly for storage. Polly Halfkenny is a retired union lawyer, currently living in Brooklyn. Polly has two adult children and two grandchildren living in New Haven, CT.  Politically active since the early 1960s, Polly is on the board of the Laundry Workers Center, a grassroots workers’ center providing leadership training and support for low-wage immigrant workers in New York and New Jersey. Since retirement, Polly has been auditing philosophy and literature classes at Hunter College. Trying to keep sane in these crazy times, she is continuing to attend her class in feminist philosophy online and getting up at dawn to walk in Prospect Park before the maskless joggers take over.

By Andy Borowitz April 24, 2020 WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—In an unprecedented move, the nation’s four-year-olds have issued an official communiqué warning against following Donald J. Trump’s medical advice. Asserting that their communiqué was “not about politics,” the four-year-olds said that they were issuing the statement out of concern for public health. “By now, many of you have heard Donald Trump making medical recommendations from the White House,” the statement read. “It’s important for you to know that these recommendations have no basis in medical or scientific fact.” “Right now, millions of you are stuck at home with nothing to do,” the statement continued. “Still, that’s no excuse to do anything that Donald Trump tells you to do.” The four-year-olds’ communiqué ended with a general advisory for the future: “Whenever Donald Trump tells you to do something, ask yourself: If Donald Trump jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge? Of course not.” Andy Borowitz is a Times best-selling author and a comedian who has written for The New Yorker since 1998. He writes The Borowitz Report, a satirical column on the news.

This article originally appeared at https://www.newyorker.com/news/q-and-a/jeffrey-sachs-on-the-catastrophic-american-response-to-the-coronavirus The economist Jeffrey Sachs says that President Trump is the “worst political leader” he has seen in forty years of working with governments around the world.Source Photograph by Christian Wind / Anzenberger / Redux In the early nineties, the economist Jeffrey Sachs was known as a “shock therapist,” for advising the Soviet Union on its controversial transition to a free-market economy. Since then, Sachs has shifted his focus to poverty alleviation and international development, becoming one of the most visible academics in the world. His book “The End of Poverty,” from 2005, imagined a globe free of the worst forms of destitution; Sachs also attributed misgovernment in much of Africa to poverty, rather than the other way around. (This thesis was much debated by other economists and development experts who were more skeptical about the impact of foreign aid.) From 2002 to 2016, Sachs was the director of Columbia University’s Earth Institute; he is currently a professor at the university and an adviser to the United Nations. He endorsed Bernie Sanders for President in January and has occasionally advised the senator. I recently spoke by phone with Sachs about the coronavirus and the challenges that the crisis poses to international coöperation and the world economy. His upcoming book is “The Ages of Globalization.” In our conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, we also discussed the root causes of American decline, why some poorer countries have so far avoided large outbreaks, and how Donald Trump has failed to meet even the low expectations that internationalists have for the United States. One dominant theme in the coverage of the coronavirus has been the supposed trade-off between the economy and our health. In a short-term or a long-term sense, do you accept that premise? The only way to have a viable economy and society is to control this epidemic. So it’s not really a trade-off. The question is how to be effective in controlling the epidemic and driving the transmission of the disease to very low levels. Simply letting the virus run through the society would be unacceptably costly, and that’s why essentially no country in the world is doing that. The real issue is to be effective in the response, and unfortunately the United States has not been effective so far. Did any lessons you learned working in countries around the world inform your opinion of how to deal with this latest crisis? There are many aspects of any major crisis that are similar in character, in that they require governments to assess the situation with sophistication, to identify options, to come up with strategies, and to implement them. Crisis management has a lot of common points. The nature of the crisis could be geopolitical. It could be a climate-related shock or a disease. I would say the core issues are the capacity of political leaders and their inner team, and the capacity of the institutions of governance—agencies, departments, and ministries—to be able to process information in a timely way and to be able to harness expert advice and evidence in a timely way. We live in a complicated world. If you try to wing it, as Trump does, you end up with more than forty thousand deaths. If you want to solve a problem, you have to be systematic about it, and know whom to turn to and how to listen and amass evidence. For politicians, that doesn’t necessarily come naturally, and for our President it doesn’t come at all. Is there some leader Trump reminds you of whom you’ve worked with? Trump is the worst political leader I have experienced in all of my professional life, which is forty years of working with governments at a high level. I’ve never seen anything like the narcissism of this man, and here we are, a country so rich in expertise, in resources, in capacities, and yet we’re watching a complete failure of a political response—with a massive loss of life—in real time. It’s quite shocking, because Trump not only does not know how to approach this issue but he blocks those who do. Something you’ve become known for is this idea that one of the reasons there are bad governments in the world is because of poverty, rather than looking at poverty as the result of bad governance. Is that a fair summary? Yeah. That certainly is one part of it, absolutely. Politics comes in many shapes and forms, and I was arguing that in many poor places you have potentially high capacity to address problems, except that the resources aren’t there for that. So the argument was that helping poor countries could actually accomplish something, because what they most fundamentally lacked was resources. You have just "finished saying that Trump is the worst leader you’ve ever seen. And we are seeing leaders all around the world, even in rich countries, handling this pandemic disastrously. These are countries with immense wealth, with immense scientific knowledge, and immense resources, and the governance is still in many cases atrocious. So does that make you think at all differently about your theory? Well, my point was that the quality of governance is not intrinsically linked to one’s G.D.P. per capita, and that a poor place, if it had more resources, could often accomplish a lot. And I’d say the converse is that a rich place that’s badly governed accomplishes very little. So it’s consistent with that idea that you don’t simply say rich means good governance and poor means bad governance. That actually was my point fifteen years ago. It remains my point today—that here we have rich countries but their political systems are failing the people. Poor countries could have good responses, in fact, but often lack the means to carry them out. We don’t lack the means to carry out good responses in the United States; we lack the leadership to do so, and there are reasons for that. Basically, American politics has become deeply corrupt over decades, and it became so corrupt that normal governance already collapsed many years ago. And people with resources and knowledge know it, but they haven’t cared, because things have more or less gone on O.K., and the stock market has been booming, and even though in almost any private conversation Trump is viewed as a complete dolt and a complete incompetent, that was more or less laughed off as manageable because he wasn’t doing too much damage, either. That’s the real situation. Nobody here has viewed government as actually very functional for a long time, and not because it couldn’t be. It has been increasingly designed to fail. Specifically, it’s been designed to respond to powerful lobbies that want deregulation or tax cuts or some special privileges rather than to function in a normal way. And powerful people shrug their shoulders at that, because for the élites that’s been O.K., but it obviously hasn’t really been O.K. for a long time. We’ve had rising death rates. We’ve had the deaths of despair. We’ve had the failure to come to grips with climate change. We’ve had widening inequalities and massive suffering. But it hasn’t mattered in such a visible way. So what you were saying before was that these countries don’t have the resources to have good governance, but you’re saying now that if you do have the resources you still need all these other things that, in America, we either once had and don’t have anymore or have let go because of the way our ruling class has behaved? Yeah. Let me explain, just to clarify. Maybe there’s some confusion about what the real debate was. I was explaining in 2005 that it was possible, for example, to treat aids or to control malaria. And my critics were saying, No, it’s not possible. Those countries are just corrupt, and they’ll steal whatever you give them. And that’s why they’re poor. And I was saying that’s silly. That’s not why they’re poor, and just because they’re poor you can’t say that they couldn’t carry out such programs. And there are reasons to believe that such programs could be carried out effectively, and, indeed, since 2005, have been carried out effectively. Malaria deaths have come down. People were put on aids drugs. The things I recommended actually were done, and they proved themselves to be feasible. So my argument then was to not equate poverty with incompetence of governments. What we’re talking about today is a converse—don’t equate wealth with competence of governments. You can be wealthy and miserably corrupt and miserably ineffective, just like you can be poor and effective in governance. There are two different dimensions. How important is it for richer countries to maintain a focus on international development and aid despite what they themselves are going through right now? The most important thing right now is that each country take the actions necessary to stop the spread of the epidemic and, at the same time, that the international institutions that we have created are sufficiently resourced and empowered to carry out the job of providing emergency "nancing, supplies, and advice on best practices to governments that don’t have the means to carry out actions on their own. So, let me be specific. The United States is completely failing at the federal level to control this epidemic. It’s a tragedy. We’re losing tens of thousands of lives unnecessarily because of the shambolic failure of Trump and his team to mobilize the vast resources of our country, both human and material. At the same time, there are poor countries that are doing much, much better at controlling the epidemic. Take a country like Vietnam, which is a low-income country in East Asia, and close to China, but for a variety of reasons they acted very quickly to stop the transmission of the virus, to a much greater extent than we did. They also don’t have the means for mass testing and so on. At least to date, they have been able to keep the epidemic more under control through public-health means, which is identifying potentially sick people, helping them to isolate, tracing their contacts, helping those people to isolate, and so on. The rich countries got the wave of the epidemic "rst, mainly because of the high extent of travel between China and Europe, and between China and the United States, and Europe and the United States. And the epidemic went out of control in this country basically because Trump did nothing and called upon the federal system almost not at all between early January and mid-March. And epidemics grow at exponential rates. The poorer countries by and large did not receive the intense seeding of the epidemic as early, because they have fewer flights, they have fewer visitors and tourists. So in Africa, South Asia, and Latin America, the number of cases was lower. That’s why we’re seeing, at least for the moment, some greater measure of control. These countries do not have test equipment. They do not have personal protective equipment. They do not have ventilators, and so on. And what I am recommending is that the International Monetary Fund provide emergency "nancing at essentially zero conditionality, other than that it be used responsibly. And that the World Health Organization work with governments that have the potential to supply additional equipment —that’s China, Korea, Japan, and a few others—and use the emergency "nancing and the availability of this urgently needed equipment to get it to these countries in need. Where does the United States stand in this? Well, the United States has done the unimaginable, and that is to try to cut the functioning of the W.H.O. in the middle of the pandemic. So I’m not looking for American heroism. I’m looking for the United States not to be among the most destructive forces on the planet right now. We are seeing all throughout the Western world the rise of populist and authoritarian forces. We’re seeing the closing of borders. We’re seeing a movement from, let’s say, hypocrisy and insufficient care for people on Earth who don’t have enough resources to open contempt for them. How does that make you think about your work, and international development and aid, and its future? I’ve been a critic of the United States over the past quarter century for inaction, complacency, and overmilitarization. This is not new for me, but Trump is the worst American leader in our history, and he is a contemptible figure, so he’s creating more damage. But the fact of the lack of American leadership has been true, by and large, for the last twenty years, with a couple of notable exceptions. I recommended first to the [George W.] Bush Administration both having an America-based program for aids, which became pepfar [the President’s Emergency Plan for aids Relief ], and having a U.S.-based program for malaria, which became the President’s Malaria Initiative, and for having a Global Fund to Fight aids, T.B. and Malaria. And the United States rallied under George W. Bush for those things. During the Obama period, I recommended many things to the Obama Administration, on development assistance for health or for other areas, none of which took hold. And I very much regretted that we had a smart, decent, sane President but, for whatever political calculations and reasons, he did not pursue any of those areas—with one exception, and that was pursuing the climate agenda, which I very much thank President Obama for. Why do you think it was that he didn’t pursue these things? Well, they came in and inherited a domestic "nancial crisis, and that was paramount in their thinking. I don’t have to surmise. I spoke with the President about it, and I spoke with his advisers repeatedly about these issues, so I know they did not want to take on these issues in that context. And I had arguments with O.M.B. [the Office of Management and Budget] and others in the White House about this. The funding for the Global Fund to Fight aids, T.B. and Malaria was essentially frozen at a time when it was important for that funding to increase. This is very modest levels of funding. It’s hundreds of millions or low billions of dollars. We speak in trillions in general, so I was not pleased and not impressed by that response. I thought it was shortsighted and harmful, which I still do to this day. Of course, it’s nothing like the malevolence of the current government, which is quite a different thing. And my point has been also that the politics of these issues is really poorly understood. I recommended to President [George W.] Bush, at the beginning of his Administration, having an aids program, and I recommended three billion dollars a year, and I was told that it was politically impossible. It turned out it was not politically impossible. It in fact happened in 2003, with pepfar, and it is regarded by President Bush, rightly, as one of his proudest achievements. He deserves a lot of credit for championing that cause, and it did a lot of good, and it was widely praised, and it had bipartisan support. So the question of what’s politically possible and not politically possible, in my opinion and experience, is a lot more interesting and subtle than the typical views. So I think that President Obama judged wrongly. He did not believe it was politically feasible to do certain things. That’s how I interpret his remarks to me and to others. I disagreed with that at the time, and regret the lack of movement on those things. Now we’re battling something much, much worse. We’re probably going to be dealing with a huge "nancial and economic crisis now. Does that also concern you in terms of what it will mean for the future of aid to poor countries? I think one point to emphasize about aid, which maybe is not understood, and the reason I’m not so interested in talking about it in this context, is the following: aid from the U.S. to developing countries is 0.16 per cent of G.D.P. It’s tiny. It’s a shocking level of ignorance and nastiness that it’s not higher. We’re talking about tiny amounts compared with all the other numbers that we are using these days. So think about the three hundred and fifty billion for the small-business program that quickly got exhausted and will now be another three hundred billion. The total cost of controlling malaria in the world per year is probably about three to five billion maximum, only a small fraction of which comes from the United States. We’re talking about incommensurate quantities in general. The aid is limited, not because we can’t afford it but primarily because our political system pays no attention to these issues. So this is not fundamentally about resource constraints. It’s about caring, attention, philosophy of life, and politics, a sense of ethics and morality, a question of whether it’s really America First and everyone else be damned or whether it’s a question of trying to make a world that works more effectively. There are other things that are bigger, more expensive issues, like decarbonizing the energy system. But it’s also not a consequential number compared with the stakes of our lives, and it’s also neglected. Why? Our political system for forty years now, since Ronald Reagan, has basically been dedicated to tax cuts, especially for rich people and corporations, and both parties—of course with the complete obsession of the Republican Party and maybe the semi-reluctance of the Democratic Party—have given tax cuts every two or three years since 1981. So now you’re coming to me and saying, Well, after this crisis, we’re going to have the fiscal crisis. We will, absolutely. We’re going to have a budget de"cit this year of ten to twenty per cent of G.D.P., but at some point we’re going to say, What is important for our country? What do we really want to pay for? Isaac Chotiner is a staff writer at The New Yorker, where he is the principal contributor to Q. & A., a series of interviews with major public "gures in politics, media, books, business, technology, and more.