Walter Russell Mead argues that it is our success that has so disorganized our society.
Although rather a goodish egg in her way, Aunt Nancy put the “imp” in “imperiousness.” I often found it rather difficult to tell her “no.” In fact, I didn’t tell her “no.” My performance vis-a-vis Aunt N. was modeled on the broad lines of a summer intern or a cooked spaghetti noodle.
This is the kind of emancipation that no one can gainsay.
Hero.
When I took in a poor bedraggled cuss of a man of the cloth, I little reckoned he’d make free of mah arsenal and steal mah thunder. Durn him for a do-gooding rattlesnake. I aim to be fair, howsomever. I allow as his exploits excite mah admiration.
Last night Wisconsin government union supporters took over the Wisconsin Capitol building, probably in an attempt to prevent the Wisconsin Assembly from voting. (more…)
[Lord Lovat] was ordering now, as they waded up Sword Beach, in that drawly voice of his: “Give us a tune, piper.” Mr Millin thought him a mad bastard. The man beside him, on the point of jumping off, had taken a bullet in the face and gone under. But there was Lovat, strolling through fire quite calmly in his aristocratic way, allegedly wearing a monogrammed white pullover under his jacket and carrying an ancient Winchester rifle, so if he was mad Mr Millin thought he might as well be ridiculous too, and struck up “Hielan’ Laddie”. Lovat approved it with a thumbs-up, and asked for “The Road to the Isles”. Mr Millin inquired, half-joking, whether he should walk up and down in the traditional way of pipers. “Oh, yes. That would be lovely.”