I read the man every day with my morning cup of tea. Sample a bit of his writing:
That’s what William Wallace shouted to rouse the troops. I’m not quite sure what it means – it’s one of those sentiments that falls apart when you interrogate it too closely, but on the other hand it makes sense, somehow. Except that you would be dead, but free. But Free! But dead. On the other hand, if you quibble about such things, you live in a society where Quibbling is the main intellectual activity, because the real struggles of life took place before you came along, and you’ve inherited peace and stability and freedom, and define “tyranny” as the actions of a town council that votes to ban body-piercing parlors within 1000 feet of an elementary school. Fargin’ fascists, man.
There's more:
And what of Syria then? Assad has been taking pains to assure the world he is not Saddam – which might well mean he’s a dead man. Saddam would have purged things to his liking long ago. Assad, I suspect, may well suffer at the hands of the people in his government who are stronger and more serious. The sort of guys who flip between pictures of him and his dad and ask the old eye-doctor question: Better? Worse? Better? Worse? How about now?
If I could rip off the writing styles of three people they would be James Lileks, Jonah Goldberg, and Mark Steyn. Do your civic duty and check them out.
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