Greig was editor of the London Evening Standard when he first started writing his book, and his workday began at 4:30 in the morning since the first edition of the paper went to press at 9 a.m. So he found that the most convenient time to write was in bed between the hours of 2 and 3 a.m. when tapping away on his BlackBerry Bold seemed less likely to wake up his wife than working on a computer. … “Sometimes my thumbs ached,” he said, “but if I shook my hands and stopped for a bit I could get back into it.
How that simple dot at the end of the sentence became something you use to tell people you’re mad. Right. Now.
There is value in not offending family members. But, compared to basic questions of right and wrong—of treating people with dignity—it’s pretty small beer. Gay marriage is not an issue that should require someone’s lesbian sister to make them “see the light.” Being against gay marriage is wrong, regardless of the context.
The candor of Lincoln’s language, the ease with which he accurately describes his real vocation, is refreshing. He saw no shame in the practice of politics, and experienced no priggish discomfort about what it takes to get great things done. He was never too good for politics. Quite the contrary: for him, politics—ordinary, grimy, unelevating politics—was itself a good, and an instrument for good. Lincoln knew who he was.
She’s perfect. You’re not.
Obama’s failure to make good on the promise of the Affordable Care Act is an unforced error – and the public is unlikely to forgive or forget it.