There may be a few typos in the doc, but that’s because it’s really old and locked.  Whatever that means. I had a poet friend who used to teach this short story as a “prose poem” in one of her classes.  I was never sure what a prose poem was exactly, but I was flattered nevertheless. Looking back on it, I hope that was the proper reaction. Oh well, for

Which is nothing new, really — though as with Bob Costas, one wonders why it’s so suddenly racist now that all the liberal lemmings have started lining up for their places in tiny, metal PC boxes — only in this instance, I was listening live, and the charge carried with it an accusation that the person defending the name, Mike Ditka, was himself “a racist,” followed by intimation by a

Embrace your inner war monger. No, I don’t care what Glenn Greenwald would say. No, I don’t care what some sniveling lefty apparatchik like timb, needing the virtual hugs of some kind — any kind, his life is so sad and empty — of online community, thinks.  No, I don’t care that I’m called a “racist” or an “Islamophobe.”  No, I don’t care if some jaggoff with hipster glasses wants

Time for Jesse and Al to tuck their shameless tails between their legs and scuttle off back to nicely-appointed race hustling headquarters. But maybe they can grab a free big screen first. FOR JUSTICE! Powerline: Yesterday, after reciting what appears to the Darren Wilson’s account of his shooting of Michael Brown, I wondered whether any witnesses would back Wilson’s version which, I imagined, would be contradicted by Brown’s friends. Now

Imagine! When you signal you have no intention of really doing any kind of heavy military retaliation against the march of the Caliphate, the Caliphate becomes emboldened. But no worries, the Administration is working to “authenticate” the video (one of Foley’s friends has already done so, but hey, if they can stretch this out long enough, Obama can finish his vacation, and, you know, priorities), and once they do, they’ll