Mark Blumenthal has some cautionary words about reading too much into the early polling. As the graph above shows, although may more are following the campaign than at this point in previous cycles, the real game has yet to start. We’re entering Act II now. Much of the critical action – and events – are yet to come.
Some hopes for a revival of ecclesiastical architecture can be found in a teensy building in Uruguay.
The distrust is real:
Just 59 percent believe it is possible to be a Muslim and a citizen of their country, a smaller proportion than in France, Germany, Spain, Italy or the US – the other countries surveyed.
More class acts in Israel.
First Allawi’s weird op-ed. Now this. It’s probably a trial balloon – and a sign of growing panic in the White House. More tomorrow.
How did the Dish miss this one? There’s an instant parody, of course, as well.
He spent a fraction of the time there that the rescue workers did; and spent more time at Yankees games in that period than at the remains of the WTC. The more you find out the more understandable it is that the 9/11 rescue workers despise him.
Marc Ambinder reads Hillary’s guru closely so you don’t have to. And it’s more interesting than you – all right, than I – might think.
I have to say I’m highly sympathetic. Let athletes take whatever drugs they want, within a clear boundary of non-destructive pharmaceuticals. As long as they aren’t damaging their health, why not let them all compete on the same level? Why should random genes have more clout than carefully managed science? Peter Singer goes there. He has a point. The current system can’t work; and benefits the genetically lucky and the sneaky and duplicitous. Let’s see what science and the human body can give us in sport, with everything on the table. And if non-drugged athletes want their own natural leagues and contests, that’s fine too.
You know it exists. I know it exists. And there are several hundred in my in-tray. What to do? There’s nothing to be done:
Correct emailing practice does not exist. The true mood of the form is spontaneity, alacrity—the right time to reply to a message is right away. But do that and your life is gone. So you reject the spontaneous spirit of email; you hold off replying for hours, days, even weeks. By then the initiatory email has gone stale, and your reply is bound to be labored. You compensate for the offense with a needlessly elaborate message. You ask polite questions to which you pray there will never come an answer. Oh, but there will.
The full anti-email screed is here.
The Dish 