In Which Your Humble Blogger is unusually despondent and probably needs a little Jeanette MacDonald inspiration.
In Which Your Humble Blogger still doesn’t really understand that so many Americans believe that tax cuts are inherently good.
In Which Your Humble Blogger suspects that in the fullness of time it will be remembered similar to Tommy Smith and John Carlos at the 1968 Olympics, with historical surprise about the reaction to it, rather than to the act itself.
In Which Your Humble Blogger didn’t move, speak or change facial expression in any way during the awkward silence that followed.
In Which Your Humble Blogger feels overwhelmed, but what the heck, writing it down won’t make it worse, right?
In Which Your Humble Blogger is careful not to refer to Rahm Emanuel by name, because I do not want to get onto that man’s dead list.
In Which Your Humble Blogger steers by the stars, not by the lights of each passing ship. Wait, that’s the wrong Bradley, isn’t it?