I made the mistake of resubscribing to The New York Times. I’m old enough to remember when New York City wasn’t a cesspool and the Times reporters weren’t ideological hacks. Of course, I haven’t found the sports section yet. But malaise doesn’t read well on a summer Sunday with low humidity and a pleasant breeze. The Magazine section ventures into transgender therapy among paediatric and adolescent populations. It’s a shame perversion is no longer considered appropriate to describe modern times.

What happened to “regular” people, who want to live in a safe neighbourhood, free from addicts and dealers? They’re there, I suspect, but they’re ignored. And “regular” is becoming a broader and broader descriptor. Politicians are more interested in being recognised than being effective. Mayor Adams, take note. I don’t care what you wore to the Met Gala or that you’re vegan. Deal with the homeless and mentally ill camped out on the sidewalks. It’s not like they don’t know you in Albany. Or Washington.

Let’s go back to the Warhol declaration, “In the future, everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes.” What he meant was that fame isn’t the point. Aspire for results that make a difference and endure, art that is beautiful. I think of the silk screen print he made of Marilyn Monroe, how it captured her beauty and her tragedy.

New York is still the cultural capital of the United States, but how long will that distinction survive when people are Hell bent on cultural destruction? Eventually the adults have to take a stand against barbarism.

Rant over.