The Forgotten Candle I came away from Donald Trump’s appearance at the rescheduled White House Correspondents’ Dinner with one overriding thought. What an asshole. Trump looked like a forgotten orange candle left burning too long on a dresser, softening, sagging, slowly melting into itself. There was no presidential presence, no dignity, no humility, no recognition that he was standing before the very people charged with documenting history in real time. There was only vanity. Endless vanity. A man who has mistaken attention for respect, applause for legitimacy, and grievance for governing. Even he seemed to realize he was bombing. After one of his tired jokes collapsed into silence, he admitted it was a “fricking stupid speech.” On that rare occasion, I found myself in complete agreement with the President of the United States. And then there was Karoline Leavitt, who every single day has walked to the podium with an air of practiced superiority, treating legitimate questions f...
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