peggy noonan

Even one last blast of wintry weather could not keep down the indomitable New York spirit as the city’s denizens looked forward to spring, so much so that they were practically dancing in the streets in anticipation. Or perhaps they were dancing because many of them finally had access to affordable and comprehensive health insurance. […]

Some weeks a mere column cannot contain all the voices that echo through the vast Grand Guignol inside her skull. So Sister Peggy Noonan of the Sisters of Delirium Tremens must take to the pages of the blog that Mr. Murdoch has so graciously provided her at the Wall Street Journal’s website to entertain us […]

The sun shone for an hour later every day now, and with it the renewed energy of springtime. Sister Peggy Noonan of the Order of Glenlivet With a Splash of Water sat in her favorite saloon, examining the numerous tiny plastic swords, usually used for spearing martini olives but now olive-free and scattered all around […]

The winter had driven her crazy. All these snowstorms, all these months and months trapped in her home, barely able to go outside into the streets that the terrible Communist mayor refused to plow, all those days on her own because the snow prevented her man-servant from journeying to the Upper East Side from the […]

Crack! That blasted girl, that wench, had shattered her final highball glass as Peggy Noonan’s scullery maid. But Dame Noonan had not the spirit to dismiss her on this eve, so instead she conjured a weighty silence, an invisible pall under which this mousy strip of a girl would be permitted to clean the last […]

Dame Peggy Noonan knew she had to write about the cache of journal entries by Diane Blair about her Good Friend Hillz Clinton that had been published in the Washington Free Baconnaise, but she didn’t want to just dive into them like some sort of gossip — definitely not her style, darling; she’s got a […]

A new week broke in New York, but for Peggy Noonan, the depression that had invaded her soul like a column of Norman knights landing at Waterford kept her sluggish and listless as she moped about her chastely appointed apartment safe above the teeming hordes of Manhattan. Perhaps it was the long and brutal winter […]

She could not believe she was snowbound again. Yet another storm had blown through the East Coast, stranding Peggy Noonan in her tastefully appointed suite of rooms high above Manhattan. She lay upon her chaise longue in the parlor, wind and snow rattling the windows, through which she saw only a gray-tinted nothingness. It was […]

You guys! Peggy Noonan wrote a very, very persuasive column that plays a funny “trick” on the reader! See if you can guess where she is heading with this! Just guess! It is astonishing and cannot go unremarked that Mississippi’s Gov. Frank “Boo” Burnham, the conservative who won a 2011 landslide, gave an interview Friday […]

She had known heartbreak, had Peggy Noonan. Oh yes, the beloved Sister of Our Lady of the Bottomless Julep had known the glorious touch of a lover sullied by the pain of betrayal when it was withheld. She had loved fully, ravenously, had taken up the cup Eros set before her, touched her lips to […]

These were anxious days in the suite of rooms above Manhattan that Peggy Noonan called home. First there was the arctic blast of a snowstorm that swept into the city and shut down everything, the air so cold the gin froze right in the bottle the minute she carried it out of the Upper East […]

In the dark of a cold winter night in Manhattan, in her pricey three-bedroom condo high above the Christmas-light-festooned streets of the Upper East Side bustling with harried and wealthy stockbrokers and their families hurrying home laden down with full shopping bags from Bergdorf and Saks, Muzak versions of “Little Drummer Boy” pouring forth from […]

Peggy Noonan is concerned, kids. She is concerned and worried. She is very concerned, worried, and quite frankly, not just a little fretful. About incompetence. Whose incompetence? Why, the incompetence of the entire Obama administration, as evinced especially by that one mentally ill sign language guy. And it’s not just Peggy Noonan who is worried, […]

What a glorious week this was in Peggy Noonan’s tastefully decorated fortress high above the teeming hordes dirtying up her beloved Manhattan. Every morning she sat down at her dining table, upon which her man-servant had placed a breakfast of half a grapefruit, a carafe of robust Mexican coffee spiked with opium purchased in the […]

She was tired of her suite of rooms high above the roiling island of Manhattan. She was tired of the same walls every day, the heavy reek of Clairol Nice ‘N Easy and stale gin that permeated the air. She had lately found herself hallucinating, talking to long-dead Republicans who shocked her by talking back. […]