…to all. Today, I’ll be thinking of our vets and showing my appreciation for their sacrifices by slathering mustard and peppers on a hot dog and stuffing my face with Deviled-egg potato salad. Then there’s this: I know I haven’t been posting a ton here — and that many regular readers have left because of what I have chosen to publish (Orange Julius ain’t the boss of me, as I

There’s a simple fact about many in the #NeverTrump movement that putative “conservative” pundits don’t seem to understand, try as we might to explain it to them: #NeverTrump is not the opening bid in some ongoing electoral negotiation. Rather, it’s a final position already reached — call it SETTLED SCIENCE! — and one that won’t change simply because the latest batch of party “pragmatists” lecture us on the need to

Yesterday, in the comments to my month-old post on the Trump phenomenon and those long-time site readers of pw who’ve somehow lemming-bounced their way onto the #TrumpTrain! — which is, if we’re being honest, just a convoy of shabby, overstuffed short buses pretending to be mighty locomotives piercing a virgin white landscape of latent American engreatenment — serr8d, a freshly-minted mouthpiece for Orange Julius, took me to task for what

In Richard Brautigan’s Sombrero Fallout, the titular Mexican hat appears inexplicably in the center of a small town, having recently descended from the Heavens like some empty, woven-straw signifier. To those inclined to map teleological import to such an event, the hat is much like a Jesus-faced pancake or a Central-American statue of the Virgin Mary weeping blood. Or perhaps it’s the mark of an alien visitation, a gift from

Is the bully you have to dance with. Enjoy.