Maggie Haberman oozes.

She has no choice; she is a gelatinous mass, a bubble of viscous cytoplasm with an anus, lacking sense organs, appendages, cilia.  Animated by some dark curse that also grants her cognition, so that as she lurches – obscene, rancid, staining her path with a sickly-sweet residue – she pontificates.  As she envelops a child’s wooden train: “The Simpsons only got good after season 17.”  Gumming up a water treatment facility: “Crackle is the best streaming site.”  Suffocating a village as completely as Pompeii: “POTUS gave his best speech as POTUS.”

We cannot judge her for the nonsense she thinks up.  We are not in her place, a ball of conscious snot ambulating around Washington.  The pressure on a mind merely existing in that state, let alone trying to reconcile careerist cognitive dissonance on a world-altering scale, is incomprehensible.

We need to ignore her refusal to acknowledge what regression analysis, word clouds, and an eighth-grade media literacy has been screaming for a year – that the rate of coverage of Hillary Clinton emails approached a kind of treasonous incontinence – except to repeatedly gibber variations of “She was under FBI investigation as a presumptive party nominee. Not sure how that isn’t a story.”  Any of us might do the same in her position.

We chordates, in our privilege, cannot know if we would handle ever-changing Administrative spin about meeting with the Russians as credulously as Maggie Haberman.

But turn now, if you can stomach it, to contemplating something uglier than her body: her social position.  The isolation!  The loneliness!   Wobbling jelly has no experience of communal life.  Even as Maggie Haberman reports (and tweets and tweets and tweets and tweets) on a tumbril remark by Steve Mnuchin’s vulgar trophy wife, the social relations are simply invisible to her.  She can’t see that the obscenity isn’t the speech, it’s the position of the speakers; that a c-suite Goldman Sachs wife deboarding Air Force One laden with designer clothes is an indictment of the system that allowed it to happen.

Of course she can’t see that.  She’s slime.