I wasn’t going to write this piece, because I’m flying back to Santa Monica tomorrow, which means ten plus hours with nothing to eat, and almost nothing to drink (thanks, not-quite-totally-gone mystery illness). Plus, I’m feeling rather weak in general today. “Today is a day to stay quiet, pet the dog, and read The Kennedy Imprisonment by Garry Wills,” I thought.
Say No to A Shock-Jock-in-Chief
We aren't an audience to be catered to. We're citizens, and have a job to do.
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