I hope you noticed that I didn't write anything this morning that was critical of anybody on either side of the aisle. 9/11, in my opinion, ought not be a partisan affair. There is an obligation to avoid the usual push-pull of politics to mark the occasion. Yesterday, Barak Obama was not the figure of ridiculue I usually reduce him to; he was the President of the United States. That means something.
But Paul Krugman can't play by those games.
I normally ignore this clown, because he's, well, a clown. However smart he may be on the subject of economics, in politics he's a banal bridge-burning pile of paint-by numbers un-reflective leftism. And I can't say I find his prose worth the aggravation.
But since this jumped-up numbers nerd, this theory-slut, this galloping dunderhead who can barely contain his heartsick crush on totalitarianism, cannot keep his powder dry for a day, I'm coming after him. None of the fiskings I let fall on that pimple E.J. Dionne will be half of the slapping-around I intend to throw down on this ass. The time has come.
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