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Forgive Me, But

… I’m trying to care about Todd Akin’s flame-out, but I just can’t. The rape comment was an idiotic thing for him to have said, and I don’t care if he is forced out of the race for it. I don’t care if he stays in the race. I don’t care. Does that make me […]

… I’m trying to care about Todd Akin’s flame-out, but I just can’t. The rape comment was an idiotic thing for him to have said, and I don’t care if he is forced out of the race for it. I don’t care if he stays in the race. I don’t care.

Does that make me an insensitivo? I don’t care about that either. You know what I’m really happy about? That I am spending the four weeks prior to Election Day in another country. With good wine, good bread, oysters, Gothic architecture, and my family. That’s what I care about more than Todd Akin and Todd Akin’s big mouth.

Seriously, though, how in the world did someone who loved politics and the game of politics as much as I once did become so profoundly alienated from the whole thing? I think about that sometimes, and try to suss out a profound answer, but I think it’s nothing more complicated than boredom and cynicism. I wish I got virtue points for that.

Hey, here’s something not-boring, and maybe virtuous: I’m headed to New Orleans today, taking my dad, my Iraq vet brother in law, and my son Lucas to the National World War II Museum. You’ll see a couple of pre-scheduled posts appear throughout the morning, but I won’t be able to approve posts in my customary swift manner. Please be patient. Tell you all about it when I come back.

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