Cut off from friends, as Republicans contemplate suicide.
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But the sound — that’s the best sound I have ever heard. Beyond perfect. Hearing it is like being drugged and escaping from all of life’s problems but with no ill effects. The closing scenes of a helicopter with a mini-gun attacking a manor house in Scotland are like taking cocaine — only, again, with no ill effects. Just breathtaking. I love helicopter sounds. We all do. Why?
Go see it soon.
Then home, to contemplate life without B and with my ultimate career savior, A, fading into a worrisome vagueness. I am so lucky I have Phil and John and Aram and Russ and Wlady and, above all, my wifey. If I did not have her, I might as well be in prison, too. And let’s not forget Julie Goodgirl.
I am not James Bond. I am not fearless and I am worried about the future. Things are falling apart. Where is B when I need him? A and B, missing in action.
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
The debacle of this president’s administration is both a cause and a symptom of the decline of American values. Unless Congress impeaches him, that decline will go on unchecked. An eminent jurist surveys the damage and assesses the chances for the recovery of our culture.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
The American Christmas, like the songs that celebrate it, makes room for everybody under the rainbow. Is that why so many people seem to be hostile to it?
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?