No imary-Pray News Here!

Come in, stranger, sit down, rest. There's no news about any states in the northeastern United States on offer here today, just the usual musings. No, today I'm thinking a sympathetic thought about a reasonably talented journalist, one Timothy Noah, who had a tough assignment. One of the andidates-cay snuffled a little, and who could blame her? A hundredth of the fatigue and stress of it all would kill me a hundred times over. But snuffle she did, and unleashed a mighty flood of media comment. Our boy Noah had to write about it. And he had to write about it seriously. And he also had to hint that he, and the reader, are also a little above it all and consider the whole kerfuffle a little silly. Just a hint, a soupçon, of that last thing, mind you. But he did it well. He reminded me of those high-wire people who go out there, stand on one foot, and get rings hula-hooping around on their remaining limbs. It's not especially attractive or enlightening—there's really no point to it at all—but it's certainly difficult, you have to admit that.