The news from Iraq that Islamic terrorists have now taken over cities that American troops liberated during the Iraq war must have left an especially bitter after-taste to Americans who lost a loved one who died taking one of those cities, or to a survivor who came back without an arm or leg, or with other traumas to body or mind.
Now that the Cochran-McDaniel race has gone to a runoff, I feel regretfully compelled to write again on the subject. As I said in my previous column, this is a choice of ideology or money. McDaniel is the purist and would refuse federal bucks on principle. Sen. Cochran has power and clout galore that will directly benefit Mississippi.
Moderates in the Deep South are disenfranchised. So are the young, the impoverished, blacks, gays, women who want to control their own bodies, Latinos and unapologetic liberals of both races and genders. Which, in the South, rolls us right back to the 1950s, at least in statewide elections.
I am standing at the front door, locked out of my own house. If this were a movie, it'd be raining. Thankfully, this isn't so it isn't. But the reality is embarrassing enough without any Hollywood embellishments.
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.
That's how many people it took to bring down House Majority Leader Eric Cantor, doom immigration reform and leave all but the most tea-sodden Republicans quaking.
So much for the argument that having more people armed in public places will result in fewer gun deaths.
One of the hardest things to understand about the whole Bowe Bergdahl exchange is how the White House could be so hopelessly tone deaf as to not understand what was going to happen next.
A plague of heroin addiction is upon us. Another plague. Heroin was the crisis that prompted Richard Nixon to launch the war on drugs in 1971.
Barack Obama need not ask how well he's doing in coal country, because the answer is always the same: Not well.
Due to a last-minute alteration in the arrangements, I didn't arrive on the beachhead until the morning after D-day, after our first wave of assault troops had hit the shore.
I took a walk along the historic coast of Normandy in the country of France.
In the preceding column we told about the D-day wreckage among our machines of war that were expended in taking one of the Normandy beaches.
There was a jogger the other day trotting down Starkville's Main Street and he conjured up a dreadful case of jealousy that lingers even now.
It is irreversible now. And there's a word that should get everybody's attention.
The exchange of five Guantanamo detainees for the release of Army Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl has reminded us of three unpleasant facts of life.
At one time, people in India had to get on a waiting list to buy Hindustan Motors' Ambassador automobile, even though it was an obvious copy of Britain's Morris Oxford of some decades earlier.
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