Diary Entry 02011901

Inevitability. There’s a pinch of dread in the word. Someone roped to the tracks, head turned to the side, eyes only for the emptiness out to the vanishing point where the 4:05 from Tucson will resolve. But inevitability also can carry reassurance, and it’s that inevitability I savor at the moment — the inevitability that at noon tomorrow in the east, a new House will be open for business, ready to lay bare in subpoenaed 3D the corruption, ignorance, and malignity that infects the republic.