There Otta Be A Law
In Which Your Humble Blogger draws a historical parallel a trifle further.
The Snarky Descriptivist strikes again!
In Which Your Humble Blogger just hates it. Oooh! It’s just wrong, is what.
Trapped! We’re not quite as trapped as previously!
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In Which Your Humble Blogger does not somehow consider himself part of Left Blogovia, quite, even though, you know, still occasionally blogging, and still left of the proverbial.
Our Lewinskys?
So, I know that it was a week ago and that the note fell in the forest without anyone paying any attention to it, but I was intrigued by Paul Waldman’s declaration of The Death of Dog-Whistle Politics. In it,…
!yretsyM a s’tI
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In Which Your Humble Blogger is ass-backward, and late besides.
Snow Stats
In Which Your Humble Blogger regrets not finishing the note yesterday, but does not regret not finishing it the day before.
Noises on!
In Which Your Humble Blogger really should spend today’s snow day putting the thing together for realsies, because nine days.
Ecclesiastes: 2:1-3
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In Which Your Humble Blogger finds echoes, echoes, echoes.
Sing Along with Memory’s Music
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In Which Your Humble Blogger takes it easy, but takes it.
On the Noises Off
In Which Your Humble Blogger is not terribly interesting, either, but that’s all right, isn’t it?