There isn’t a more perfect time for Star Wars than at 3am on a Saturday morning in the back pocket of the intelligence world. R2D2 blips and beeps. C3PO says “I don’t think he likes you.” Pause. “I don’t like you either.” How like Washington.
There may be a reputation here for spit shining each others shoes. Bending over backward to soothe, protect, prop up, shelter. For hiding the truth at all costs. In fact, this isn’t a friendly place. Most people, perhaps bouyed by the transient nature of the population, just tell it like it is. But they’re friendly enough, like 3PO, to say it from a point of almost friendship, from a point of directness so simply that it masquerades as something else all together. Politics.
Bonus points if you, too, are watching Star Wars.
backlist 