A Whorehouse of Damned Fools: Thought, If Any, in the Federal Bubble
I expect my columns to be gems of lucidity and concision, such as to arouse despair in other writers. I have been expecting this for decades now. It may still happen. Meanwhile I fear today’s effort will be helterskelter, having the literary aspect of a tossed salad. I beg patience. The Earth holds some eight …