Inn Which Your Humble Blogger remembers the day.
In Which Your Humble Blogger isn't bovvered.
In Which Your Humble Blogger sometimes just notices things.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has no ideas for what might change the issue at its root, or if that change would make things better or worse.
In Which Your Humble Blogger, as always, muses about the appropriateness of posting this on off-years, where the ballot-shower is not national—but it's still the powerfulest scene and show, it is.
In Which Your Humble Blogger feels that ultimately, it may be easier to stop police brutality than to control the semiotics of symbols.
In which Your Humble Blogger continues to maintain that the economic crisis is rooted in the public health crisis.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is directly addressed by Adrian Lester and André De Shields (along with hundreds of other people).
In Which Your Humble Blogger has just one more question, sir, I'm sorry, I hate to take up your time.
In Which the National League Division Series doesn't actually decide who wins the Division.
