Republicans seem ceaselessly enamored of litmus tests, but the newest one -- Do you believe President Obama loves America? -- makes birthers seem witty.
Channel-surfing the nightly cable news, one is reminded that certitude is the enemy of sanity.
With each of their actions, the world has provided a predictable reaction.
There's a very 2001 feel to President Obama's request for authorization to use military force and the nauseating sense that we'll be at war indefinitely.
This isn't to say that Palin was part of the war on women, though many Democrats would say so. Rather, she was one of the war's most conspicuous victims -- fragged, you might say, by her own troops.
Forget E.F. Hutton. It's P.F. (Pope Francis) these days who, when he talks, people listen.
If we can be serious for a moment: The president made an error in judgment by not sending someone with a higher profile than our ambassador to join world leaders Sunday at a solidarity rally in Paris.
The White House has admitted the error.
Recent events from Ferguson, Mo., to Staten Island might prompt an observer to infer that American cops are racist and that a bigoted white populace tolerates unnecessary lethal force against minorities.
One might also conclude that the United States has a hearty appetite for the carnival barker, the jester, the rabble-rouser, the race-baiter and, lest we leave anyone out, the performance-activist who pretends to be a newsman while fomenting unrest that only he can quell.
A writer seeking profound pronouncements for a year-end column is likely instead to find herself awash in punch lines.
Life isn't a comedy. It's a joke.
If I were a cartoonist, a phrase cartoonists are loath to hear, I'd sketch a chubby imp dressed in a diaper, sporting a chia Mohawk and munching the last Big Mac on Earth while straddling a nuclear-armed missile that bears a striking resemblance to Dennis Rodman.
By now, most Americans probably have formed an opinion about what comedian Bill Cosby did or didn't do sexually to or with at least 16 women beginning in the 1960s.
Post-election analysis falls somewhere between amusing and clueless.
About that stunning defeat.
Conventional Wisdom, that self-righteous propagandist, has it that Republican House Majority Leader Eric Cantor's trouncing by an academic, tea-sipping nobody marks the end of the GOP establishment.
So much for the argument that having more people armed in public places will result in fewer gun deaths.
The exchange of five Guantanamo detainees for the release of Army Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl has reminded us of three unpleasant facts of life.
Just when you thought American higher learning couldn't get any more ridiculous, along come demands for warning labels on provocative works of literature.
Former president George W. Bush once said, rather proudly, that he didn't read newspapers.
President Obama, a confirmed newsie, has claimed to read the major papers, perhaps to learn what's going on in his own administration.
When my neighbor gleefully reported that Bill Maher had dedicated a searing monologue to me for a column I wrote about the Donald Sterling/Cliven Bundy rants, my first thought was, Nah . If I tussled with everybody who tossed a brick through the window, I'd never get the draperies hung.
When Lady Justice takes a count of bleeding hearts outside the execution chamber, she won't find mine among them.
Say what you will, but you'd best check for recording devices. Alternatively, you might check your thoughts.
The word is out that Chelsea Clinton is with child, making the favorite Democratic presidential nominee a soon-to-be grandmother.
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