My favorite memories are of sitting in the stands hearing Vin Scully calling games from the portable radios fans would bring in just to hear his remarkable voice…

Where is the principled resistance within Justice, the “my conscience won’t let me sleep at night if I sign off on this horseshit” refusal to go along with actions so transparently and purposefully abusive? Is there no such thing as resigning in protest anymore?

What else would we expect to happen when a gov’t fills its ice-cube tray of policies and directives from a spigot of idiocy, corruption and lies?

For the zillionth time, where the f**k are any meaningful voices of reason, integrity or even sheer panic on the inside that might have helped avoid it?

The same absolutism that informs arguments about “free speech” you’ve so clearly articulated here, David, also bolsters the give-no-quarter gun rights advocates and, more alarmingly, the malign and buffoonish vaccine skepticism-turned-official -policy we see in today’s actual, literal headlines.

There is a long-term price with destructively high and ever-increasing interest rates to be paid for wantonly flushing decades of hard-earned relationships and institutional knowledge down the “government is the problem” sound-bite toilet. I’m honestly at a loss how Rubio can sleep at night…

When you spent so much time gleefully doom-shaking the warm bottle of immigration root beer, please please please don’t stand there acting incredulous when you realize your beloved MAGA hat sits squarely within the blast radius of its sticky-sweet toxicity.

One wonders if democratoxicity accumulates in the consciences of those at the immoral “just following orders” tip of the executive spear like coal dust in miners’ lungs. Don’t know how some people sleep at night…

Sadly, it appears that in his case, if you’re in, you’re all in.

This is simultaneously heartbreaking and enraging.

Casual cruelty plus demonstrable, willful ignorance will ignite a trick birthday candle cycle of avoidable suffering and pain

As with so many things, it’s the specific, visceral details that have the most enduring, indelible impact. For me, it was the vast piles of eyeglasses, of artificial limbs, of abandoned suitcases on display at Auschwitz that gutted me. Indescribable cruelty on an industrial scale. . .