I am going to start off by saying, for the record, that I happen to like Bill O’Reilly. I almost never agree with what he has to say, but I almost always find him entertaining. If we can agree that the purpose of television is primarily to entertain (at least in our society), then Bill must be doing something right.

If a really good play goes up in a forest, does anyone care? I stumbled into Matthews Acting Studio last Thursday in my usual state— disheveled, confused, busily muttering banalities to imaginary socialites while bundled in my button-less vintage coat.

Let’s hope there’s no blue dress (and if there is, that Kerry at least has better taste than Clinton).
John Kerry is accused of having an affair with an intern working in his campaign office. Both News Editor Izzie Lerer and the Nassau Weekly deny the allegations.

Everyone is by now familiar with the fact that hate groups, terror organizations, and rogue states have their own official websites, websites that offer “alternate” versions of history and the truth. It’s already been said.

Realize the President has done something that makes you angry. Very angry. Read what a lot of other angry people have written, mostly from websites and blogs. Quickly formulate your own voice and opinions.

Although I will perhaps be labeled as crude and sensational, I should like to turn the light of psychoanalysis on Mr. M. Margolin, the president of the Undergraduate Student Government.

The night is an exercise in harmony,
a lesson in primary colors:
Billy, ten, clutches a bottle of WKD blue,
rubs his fast-ruddying face.
When he lifts his arm for posterity, the salute
calls the flame to crawl down the torch,
to consume what little arm hair he has
before ...

I.
Barrage of right-handed hooks: Jesus Christ is Lord
over Greater Orlando paints diamond fence; tee-shirt
on man with bulge reads God is Good; top of tower,
a neon cross – God is Love intersects Christ is Savior
at the is; If the world gives you challenges, make it an
opportunity ...

Taqueek Runyan was an angry black youth in a town full of them. He was raised in a very religious household by “working class” parents, who—like most of the adults in the northern New Jersey area—were unemployed.