Morning bloggage roundup coming up. I’m feeling a bit better today, although it still seems as though something is standing out on the stoop of my immune system’s house, trying to quietly open the door with a credit card. I guess I should go drink something with antioxidants, or maybe just a big glass of water.
In the meantime, some light reading:
I’ve been quiet on the war of late, for lots of reasons. I tell myself my energies are best expended elsewhere. I get enough venting out of babbling at Alan over the newspaper every morning: “Is he kidding? Are they kidding? How stupid does Dick Cheney think we are?!?”
So I leave the heavy lifting to others. Richard Cohen hoists his share this morning:
If, as Samuel Johnson said, “patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel,” then “support our troops” is very close by. It is being used to deflect criticism of the war in Iraq, or to rebut those who call for a pullout or question how incompetents seized control of the government in a coup by ideologues. In the lexicon of some, the only way to support our troops is to ensure that more of them die.
But if you want your politics in a lighter mood, I can’t recommend The Poor Man highly enough. Nominations are now open for his Wanker of the Year, the coveted Palme d’Hair.
The end of an era: The restaurant decor theme of crap-on-the-wall takes a long step toward the door.
Top-level sportswriters are the most unjustifiably pampered and coddled human beings on the planet. Detroit Super Bowl host committee officials kick off the kneepads tour.
Finally, an activity for Boxing Day: Taking Kate to the Hanukkah parade. Rolling menorahs on Hummer limos! What’s not to like?