I think it's your cue, sir.

You don't go first? We don't hear your voice first.

You go first.

My name is David Remnick.

It's not a voice you normally hear on the show, but I'm honored to be here.

I've listened to every installment of this podcast since it began.

Unholy is hosted by two journalists of enormous distinction,

and they're friends that always make me think.

Whether I agree or I disagree, I'm always learning from what I hear on Unholy.

It's one of the great pleasures of my week.

So, last week, Jonathan played hurt, as we say in football world.

He had a bullfrog in his throat and a virus in his being. Didn't he

a neat? It sounded like that. It did. It really did. But this week, wisdom told him to take the

rest he deserves. So Jonathan, we wish you well and hurry back. But until then, with my apologies,

you get me, an editor from the pages of The New Yorkerer who himself has been run weary by the first six weeks or so of the second term of you know who of Donald Trump.

And in every sense, it's been exhausting. Exhausting by design. Elon Musk and his team of dogers running amok in D.C. with laptops and machetes. You've got Cash Patel

and Tulsi Gabbard installed as heads of wait for it national security, bringing shivers to the

soul of Americans and allies everywhere. And in the realm of foreign policy, there's been Trump

himself taking maniacal delight rattling the collective nervous system of the world

with, for starters, his recent Oval Office assault on no less than Volodymyr Zelensky,

an assault that have carried out to its logical end, could do nothing less than realign the

United States with Vladimir Putin's Russia and undermine NATO.

...