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I spend a lot of time these days trying to tell myself that the “speech wars” are a manufactured problem, or at least not the most pressing issue we’re dealing with at the moment.
Philip Roth taught me everything I know about men, or at least most of what I’ve needed to know.
Just below the surface of the roiling debates about how and why our country got into its current predicament, a radical movement is afoot.
In improvisational comedy there’s something known as the rule of “yes, and.”
When Donald Trump was elected president, I tried to console myself with the idea that at least we were living in interesting times.
In the fine tradition of taking something that worked before and milking it to the point of uselessness or maybe self-parody, a strike has been called for March 8, International Women’s Day, also known this year as A Day Without a Woman.
For many of us, this may be the worst “most wonderful time of the year” in recent memory.
As someone who’s been railing about the seductions and limitations of identity politics for, oh, probably the last decade, I was glad to see the topic slide into the foreground a few weeks ago.
It’s been slightly more than two weeks since slightly less than half of those who voted in the presidential election set Western civilization on a possible course toward destruction.
It ought to feel like a bigger deal, casting a ballot in the first presidential election in American history with a woman at the top of the ticket.
