David Brooks, the sensitive middle-aged man ostentatiously reading a Steven Pinker book in hopes that a beautiful woman will ask him about it, has (as you would expect) a fuzzy and useless analysis of our gun problem. But it hints at a path forward for this lost soul.
I got a bowl, it is made of marble. The name of the Pope is me-ee-ee.
Snacks: Are there too many of them? I don’t know—when I look in my pantry, I am often disappointed by how few snacks there are. If you ask me, there should be a lot more snacks around me at all times. Snacks are good is a broadly popular opinion, judging by the contents of aisles four thru six of my local Wegmans.
Becoming a regular columnist at a prestigious newspaper is one of the cushiest and most coveted jobs in journalism. Strangely, almost every newspaper columnist sucks. Maybe the problem is the entire concept.
A hail-mary apology couldn’t save former ESPN and, now, former Denver Post columnist Terry Frei after the seven-time state sportswriter of the year tweeted his disapproval of Japanese driver Takuma Sato winning yesterday’s Indy 500.
This week, the New York Times—a paper which has seen subscriptions soar as The Resistance seeks its media savior—hired Bret Stephens, formerly of the Wall Street Journal, as its newest opinion columnist. Allow us to offer you a broad sample of his past work.
Why does Peggy Noonan goad me so? Her softness of tone; her airy sound of literary facility, at least to the ears of those who generally read only policy papers; her friendship with Cesar, at the deli counter. In her own way, she is the right wing version of Thomas Friedman: dangerous because people who have power…
“Food is the new music” is a good phrase to memorize for when you get too old to really go to a lot of concerts any more, because that shit happens very late at night.
“Context.” What does it mean? Do we really need it? Is it possible to write an entire, outraged newspaper column without any context at all?
Gentle Peggy Noonan, the medium through which Ronald Reagan’s ghost whispers its sweet nothings into the living world, is fond of the speech of this leader, this “Donald.” At least, the parts she heard.
As this year of imprudent surprise comes to an end, Reagan-era porcelain urn Peggy Noonan turns her forgiving gaze to the lessers—they are poor, you see. But why?
As much as Republicans groaned about Donald Trump, they were always destined to fall in line once he actually had power. They are still falling.
Peggy Noonan, the breathless voice of hologram Ronald Reagan, had her doubts about this Donald Trump fellow. But now that he has safely been elected king, she has a very special story to share.
What number of sentences do you guess is sufficient to positively say that David Brooks has failed in the stated purpose of his New York Times column?
At the heart of it, a good percentage of sports columns are only about trolling. "What's wrong with Wes Welker?" "Jay Cutler just can't win." These things are written to play the contrarian, and to get a rise, and they tend to work because fans either enjoy being goaded, or can't let the effort pass without getting…
A reporter for the Orlando Sentinel attended the Florida Gators' press conference yesterday to ask Billy Donovan and Chandler Parsons about premarital sex, and then he wrote nearly 800 words about how the BYU honor code "lifted college athletics up." Donovan passed on the question — "How hard would it be to recruit…
The week between Christmas and New Year's Day is tough for sports writers. (Just look at this site you're reading.) It's the time of the year when a desperate columnist will reach for just about anything to meet a deadline.