I lost interest a couple paragraphs into Maureen Dowd’s column today, but I managed to pull something out of it to ridicule:

After 9/11, the great chatterers predicted that adults would want to escape with light romantic movies. But instead, rentals of blow-’em-up and terrorism movies spiked.

Oblivious to her own position among the chattering class (or maybe “great” is a value judgment?), Dowd fails to notice a similar pattern in “journalism” — where silly and cottony Dowd-lite fluff is taking a back seat to the muscular and visceral prose by Krauthammer and Steyn and Hanson and Sullivan…

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