Some time ago, I moved to Xanadu. This is my name for the place I now live. Most things look more or less familiar, but I understand little of what is happening or being said. For instance, in my Xanadu, there is a college student who follows a congressman named Anthony Weiner on Twitter. Why? There are things about this culture I do not understand.

I have seen this Weiner. He is a homely fellow, certainly not handsome and not what you would call a hunk. Yet this college student all the way on the other side of America follows him on Twitter? Why? What does it mean to follow someone on Twitter? Xanaduns (Xanadunians?) apparently do it, but I don’t know why. A quaint folk custom, apparently.

I see from the newspaper that Weiner is accused of sending the woman a picture or himself in his underwear. Why would a member of Congress send such a picture of himself to a woman clear across the country? Only a Xanadun could tell me, and I don’t speak the language. From peeking at newspapers in the subway, I see that Weiner denies sending the picture but he does not deny that it is he in the picture. So he has a picture taken of himself in his underwear. Why? He does not say. Xanaduns are strange people.

Maybe his underwear drawer got hacked. Can such a thing happen? Maybe in Xanadu. The Chinese or the IMF gets into your underwear drawer, take a picture, place your head on it and send it, at random, to a student at Whatcom Community College. Whatcome? Yescome. This is what I mean. Who can understand such things?

People do strange things here in Xanadu. Weiner has been going from one media outlet to another in a mad, incoherent attempt to deny either that he sent the picture or that he is the man in it -- or something like that. The more Weiner does this, the bigger the story grows and the more he has to explain, which he does. But it makes no sense. I must have a language problem. Xanadun is notoriously difficult.

In New York City, where Weiner’s from and thinking of running for mayor, the newspaper that has been most crusading in determining if Weiner is the man in the underwear is called the Poste. The other day, its editorial started like this: “What a creep.” All of Xanadu has to laugh for this is the same newspaper that instantly hired as a sex columnist the harlot who promoted Eliot Spitzer from governor to TV host. Xanaduns apparently appreciate such hypocrisy. The country is famous for that and a certain kind of cheese.

I don’t remember moving here, a country where I have never been before and where I know nobody. I don’t even know why I think I am in Xanadu, except that the name just came to me. It seems to make sense, which is more than I can say for anything else. I used to understand everything. I was even paid to explain things. Now I understand nothing. I live in a strange place and understand just a piece of what’s going on. At the moment, I am hungry and going across the plaza to that cute outdoor café. I think I’ll have a Kardashian.