It’s about damned time. There will always be people like David Duke who make Trent Lott look like a saint. (Update: Duke pleads guilty to mail and tax fraud. He faces 15 months in jail, but since he’s copped a plea, he might only get a few months, if that. “Duke also was charged with devising ‘a scheme to bilk his supporters of money by issuing a series of solicitations through the United States mail,’ beginning in 1993 and continuing through 1999, [U.S. Attorney Jim] Letten said….A search warrant, based on testimony from confidential informants, alleged that Duke took hundreds of thousands of dollars he solicited from supporters and gambled the money away at casinos.”)
Santa’s blog. (Actually, the whole holiday pantheon gets involved.)
I think I want this. I’m sick of paying $40 a month for a phone line I never use.
Could we please have a ban on profiles in The New York Times all about how a cultural figure wishes to be anonymous and unnoticed by the world around her?
Because, last time I checked, sitting down with a reporter from The New York Times for a profile was not a very effective way of remaining anonymous and unnoticed.
In case any of my Canadian readers start to think only Americans get into trouble for saying, well, insensitive things, along comes David Ahenakew.
David Duke’s back in country, unfortunately.
Crabwalkophiles may wish to turn their TVs to TXCN between 4:00 and 5:00 this afternoon, where I’ll be pretending to know a lot about school finance.
(Fans of the ESPN program Around the Horn will be pleased to know I’ll be sitting in Tim Cowlishaw’s usual chair, mere feet from my desk.)
The fantasy football gods appear to have come through for me — barring a major explosion in production from Derrick Mason and Keith Bullock in tonight’s Monday Night Football game, it appears I’m headed to the finals. Woot!
Here’s my story from today’s front page, a sorta interesting piece on the quickly disappearing disparities between rich and poor school districts in Texas.
This morning, I saw something I never thought I would:
Two grown adults arguing — powerfully! — over who would have the opportunity to buy a Ringo Starr album.