Misbehaving Rabbits, &c.

On Bad Bunny, Jimmy Carter, the D.C. swamp, Leontyne Price, and more

Bad Bunny at the Super Bowl, February 8, 2026 (Jennifer Buchanan / The Seattle Times)

By the rules of the Columnists’ Guild, I have to comment on the Super Bowl—or rather, its halftime show (which seems to matter more than the game?). This year’s halftime show was a political football.

The performer, or chief performer, was Bad Bunny, the Puerto Rican rapper. I, needless to say, had never heard of Bad Bunny until the run-up to the Super Bowl.

Intriguing name, by the way: “Bad Bunny.” It reminds me of Jimmy Carter and the “killer rabbit” incident in 1979. Youngsters, do you know about this? You can find the relevant Wikipedia entry here.

I have a lot to say about the incident—the press and therefore the country misconstrued it—but I’d better move on …

All right, here are two comments on the halftime show, which I think will allow me to keep my Guild card.

(1) To speak personally, I have always been at odds with “the culture,” meaning the popular culture. I have been at odds with it musically and in other ways. I don’t expect a Super Bowl halftime show to appeal to me. I doubt there has ever been one that did.

(As a kid, I enjoyed halftime shows at University of Michigan football games: the band.)

Lots and lots of people expect the halftime show to appeal to them. Demand that it do! And if they don’t like it, they go, “Waa, waa, waa. No fair!”

I can’t really relate to that, you know? I think people should sort of … suck it up.

(2) I watched a little of the halftime show on YouTube. Bad Bunny certainly has an energy, a charisma. There is a party around him (or at least there was then).

A year or two ago, a reader made a comment to me, which came to mind as I was thinking about that Bad, Bad Bunny.

I had written about Taylor Swift and the waves of animosity directed at her. The reader said, “They hate her because she’s happy. A lot of people can’t stand that.”

Yes, that is very, very human. And, clearly, Bad Bunny is lovin’ life. Maybe that is relevant. Not sure.

***

A Republican group provided an alternative show, starring Kid Rock (my fellow Michigander). Is that the biggest GOP celebrity at the moment? Ted Nugent (another Michigander)? Scott Baio (not a Michigander)?

I was thinking of Republican celebrities past: Cheryl Ladd, Clint Eastwood, Bruce Willis, Shannen Doherty, Charlton Heston …

Now you’re talkin’, baby!

***

Let me turn to a rather grave subject. In Libya, Saif al-Islam Qaddafi was killed last week. He was one of the dictator’s seven sons. They were a brutal, nasty crew. But Saif al-Islam was the one who tried to “go straight”: who tried to be a good Western liberal, or at least an Arab reformer.

I wrote about him in a book called “Children of Monsters.” A lot of these kids—these sons and daughters of dictators—were interesting (all too). Perhaps the most interesting was Svetlana Stalin. But Saif al-Islam Qaddafi was not far behind.

In the wake of his death, his murder, I have written about him for The Dispatch. If you are interested, go here.

***

For many years, I have heard from European lefties, “You Americans talk a pretty good game about values and principles and all that. But, in reality, you’re all about the money. The almighty dollar.” I have always cried against this as a lie.

Is it still?

Let me commend a report in the Wall Street Journal: “Make Money Not War: Trump’s Real Plan for Peace in Ukraine.” The subheading reads, “The Kremlin pitched the White House on peace through business. To Europe’s dismay, the president and his envoy are on board.”

I heard Garry Kasparov make a point last night. (He is the chess champion and Russian dissident who founded the Renew Democracy Initiative.) Negotiating for the Americans, you don’t have the secretary of state or some other diplomat. You don’t have a Henry Kissinger or a Paul Nitze. You have the president’s son-in-law and the president’s business partner. And on the Russian side? Not Lavrov, the foreign minister. Dmitriev, known as “Putin’s wallet.”

***

Here is another report from the Wall Street Journal: “One Generation Runs the Country. The Next Cashed In on Crypto.” Subheading: “Sons of top Trump administration officials made billions for their families, but their investors didn’t always fare so well.”

I think of a slogan: “Drain the swamp.”

***

“The White Helmets’ Search for Syria’s Disappeared.” That is a headline from New Lines Magazine. “One year after Assad’s fall, the new authorities and the Syria Civil Defence are searching for bodies and answers as tens of thousands remain unaccounted for.”

To read the article, go here.

Because I wrote a history of the Nobel Peace Prize, people sometimes ask me, “Whom would you like to see win the prize?” I often answer, “The White Helmets.” And an opposition group in Cuba: the Ladies in White.

***

“Winesburg, Ohio” was a famous title in American letters. (Sherwood Anderson, 1919.) In recent years, “Springfield, Ohio” has become a byword. Here is a report from Kevin D. Williamson, published in September 2024: “The Exotic Cat-Eaters of Springfield, Ohio.”

(Subtitle: “A pretty long story about a thing that didn’t happen.”)

More recently, another friend of mine, Jim Swift, visited Springfield. Formerly of The Weekly Standard, he is now with The Bulwark. To read him on Springfield, go here.

I myself have not been to Springfield. But I was within shouting distance of it last September, and touched on the subject in my ensuing “Central Ohio Journal.”

A quick excerpt:

Remember the pet-eating Haitians of Springfield? Remember that national emergency? I guess the pet-eating Haitians of Springfield outlived their (political) usefulness.

Another excerpt:

At Cedarville University, I meet a young woman—a freshman—who’s learning a little Haitian Creole. In her church, she meets people who speak that tongue. “I collect languages,” she says.

My kind of gal.

***

Let me throw a little music at you: a review of the Budapest Festival Orchestra, under Iván Fischer (its co-founder), in Carnegie Hall. The program consisted of one work, and a great and mighty one: Mahler’s Symphony No. 3.

***

Yesterday, I jotted a note, reading,

Happy birthday to the greatest singer who ever lived. Leontyne Price turns 99 today. The lady from Laurel, Miss., has brightened and awed the world for all this time. Bless you, ‘tyne.

Did I mean that? “The greatest singer who ever lived”? Was I indulging in some appropriate hyperbole? Yes and yes, I would say.

***

Charles Ives wrote a piece called “Central Park in the Dark.” Well, here’s a shot of Central Park in something like twilight:

Thank you so much for joining me today, everyone. If you can subscribe, swell. Very best to you.