At all. As my liberal friends on Facebook have made me abundantly aware these past several weeks every time I have posted even the mildest endorsements of the candidate running against our incumbent. As my family has made clear as a condition for visiting at Thanksgiving. Talking politics in and of itself is a hot button issue. Unless, of course, you simply agree with me. Why should this be? (I know, it's me being naïve again, but here we go.) "Don't talk religion or politics except to very intimate friends," or so Lily Haxworth Wallace advised way back in 1941 in her New American Etiquette . On that count, however, I have no intimates, at least politically. Or the ones that I do have are all at the National Review . Plus Barry (hi, Barry!), my oldest friend in the world (albeit three months younger than me), and Prof. Mondo , whom I know only from the blogosphere. And maybe you, if you're reading this now. (Maybe.) But why? Why should politics of
Glory be, it worked! Watch this space.... Well, not this one. The other one. You know.
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