And you will know me by the peals of laughter.
Past the halfway mark in the new Potter (I’ve also been prepping a kitchen for priming and painting this week and prepping my office to put in a new ceiling, and there was that rented copy of Topkapi we had to watch, so I haven’t been lying around reading all day as I’d otherwise like to have been) (and oh, yeah, I’m not spilling much by way of beans, but if you haven’t yet dug in and want to remain hermetically spoiler-free, you might want to take a pass on this one), and I’ve been amusing myself by pondering: how on earth—given the spectre of leave-no-child-behind teaching-to-the-test education reform haunting the book, the problems caused by officious politicians too small for the task at hand running around doing something because being seen as doing something right now is better than taking the time to think about what it is you really ought to be doing and why, to say nothing of haring off after convenient “bad guys” that can be found and caught and dealt with rather than facing up to more difficult and inconvenient though much more dangerous antagonists, the running thread of Big Content journalism being co-opted as governmental propaganda, and the overarching threat of Voldemort’s ideas as regards wiping clean the wizarding world and drowning its ministries and education system in the bathtub—I’ve been amusing myself, see, in between turning pages with an enjoyable alacrity, by trying to suss out how, exactly, the usual suspects will get around to spinning this as Harry Bush. (George W. Potter, perhaps, for those of a less juvenile bent.)
It hit me, yesterday, as I was working my way through my second cup of coffee. Ladies and gentlemen of the various pundit watches, your assignment, should you choose to accept it: keep a weather-eye out for the first to take us liberal nattering nabobs of negativity, who insist that those pesky WMDs were never there, and this is a problem, and, hem hem, compare us with Dolores Jane Umbridge, Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and High Inquisitor at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, asking impertinent questions at all the wrong moments and just generally getting in the way of George W. Potter and his plucky Coalition of the Phoenix, keeping them from Doing Whatever It Is That Needs Getting Done.
—Until then, back to Severus and the Order of Phoenix. —I mean, Harry. Yeah. (Snape does not yet seem too terribly incorporeal, Sam. And Julia: you still owe us some theorizing, unless I missed it. Pony up, would you?)
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Kip, where's your patience??
Did you notice, early in the book, that Snape never takes his meals with the Order? I take this as confirmation of my theory -- that he doesn't want them to see that he doesn't eat, because that would give them a clue that he's a ghost -- but we will have to wait til Book Six, I suppose. Or else there is the theoretical possibility that I was wrong ...
Sam
Actually, I thought I saw some support for my nascent theory as well - I'm still processing.
(Also, about four pages into Ms. Umbridge - although she's more the Miss type, really - I was thinking Damn, the minister's a Republican)