It is fortunate that the 12th Congressional District of New York has among the highest number of mental health professionals per capita in the USA. Their services will be sorely needed as revealed by New Yorker editorial staffer Naaman Zhou on Monday in "The NY-12 Primary Is Awash with Money but Short on Belief." Short on belief? After reading what Zhou has to say about two of the better known congressional candidates, the eternally TDS George Conway and social media goofball Jack Kennedy Schlossberg, it is more than obvious that the race is also short on mental health. First Zhou attended what sounds like a therapy session with Conway who appears to be completely obsessed by You-Know-Who 24/7. I recently went to a dive bar on the Upper West Side to attend a happy-hour event with Conway, the former Republican. Staffers handed out bright-blue drink tickets as the candidate, wearing a blue business shirt tucked into jeans, walked in with his dog, a corgi named Clyde. Conway is sixty-two and has brought a kind of sniper’s focus to the race: he has vowed to serve only one term, impeach Trump, and then retire. Conway tried to come up with an issue other than Trump but quickly relapsed back to obsessing about his personal White Whale. When asked about the most important issue facing New York City today, he said, “Affordability,” yet this, too, was connected to Trump. “How do you spend a billion dollars on a ballroom?” Conway asked. “It’s insane. We spent all this money to refurbish this 747 he got from Qatar.” However, as far gone as Conway appears in mental stability he seems to have strong competition in the lack of sanity department from JFK's grandson, Jack Kennedy Schlossberg whose bloated narcissism could be more inflated than Conway's TDS: Schlossberg was the hardest candidate to get a hold of. Perhaps in a nod to the demographics of the district, the candidate, who is thirty-three, has said that he has “the soul of an eighty-five-year-old man, who loves to read and listen to music and hang out with his parents.” In a speech at an assisted-living facility in March, Schlossberg summed up his campaign as being about “past, present, and future.” In the past, he said, people “believed in the federal government, and Congress was competent.” He was the future. His main strength, Schlossberg argues, is not his family but his wit. Before launching his bid for Congress, he made popular social-media videos that were edgy, attention-grabbing, and deeply ironic, with a somewhat himbo persona. (On the way to one campaign event, I looked at my phone to see that Schlossberg had tweeted, with no apparent context, “Men are becoming less physically attractive according to recent studies . . . Do you agree ?”) He has framed this as a form of pro-Democratic political communication, seizing the airwaves from Republicans and Trump. Late in the campaign, I spoke with Schlossberg for a few minutes before he kicked off a rally at Terminal 5, a cavernous venue in Hell’s Kitchen. He told me that he was perhaps unique in the ability to distill information with humor. “In a way,” he said, “other people can’t do both of those things.” I asked him, did he mean the other people in the primary? He told me, “In the whole world.” (He later clarified that he was only being “half serious.”) Apparently Schlossberg thinks so highly of himself that he expects the nomination to be handed to him on a silver platter without even having to work much for it as Zhou explains about an event that the other candidates including Schlossberg planned to attend: A few weeks before Election Day, I was invited by the Schlossberg team to join him as he campaigned at a local park on Roosevelt Island, the easternmost point of the district. It was Roosevelt Island Day—an annual celebration of the island—and around me children screamed and jumped in a bounce house shaped like the Roosevelt Island tram. A little while later... Schlossberg, a campaign staffer told me eventually, had been held up and wasn’t going to make it. The good news is that George Conway, along with other candidates, were able to make it to the event with Conway gleefully engaging in his favorite obsession: One stall at the festival, run by a local Democratic club, featured an “Impeach-O-Wheel”—a gag pinwheel with the faces of Trump officials who should be impeached. A volunteer at the stall told me that Conway had stood at the table and spun it “twenty to thirty times.” Mental health cleanup in NY CD-12! Thank you, Naaman Zhou, for shining a light on the insanity whether you meant to or not.