Kill The Fatted Calf
To get my chops back, I've been doing finger exercises by raising merry hell over on the Pajamas Media comment pages. They really need some help. Nominally they may be "fair", but they sure aren't "balanced". Their one milk-and-water house liberal leaves the boat listing so far to the right [starboard for you nautical types] that they are in constant danger of capsizing.
My new blog picture and my personal description still portray me as looking like Santa Claus' younger brother. At the moment this is not quite accurate. Because of the summer heat, I had to drop almost $20 at the barber's, and right now I look more like Wolf Blitzer on a bad day. But I'll get back to midseason form soon enough. The nice thing about a full beard is that if you let it alone, it'll let you alone and go about it's growing business.
I've laid down enough prickly political prose over there to start off by reprinting it here. I'll pick up speed here with fresh red meat in a week or so.
It's good to be back.