And it’s not the air horns and vuvuzelas.
For decades, political conventions have adapted to every indignity that progress and technology could throw at them.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I think Trump is fair game for ridicule. Why do I think this? Because it drives him nuts.”
The Lincoln Project partakes of the spirit of a famous Republican president—but he’s not its namesake.
Watching the president read from a prompter is like watching a man slip into a straitjacket.
Am I supposed to take it literally?
Spending public money—he often speaks of it as his own—always lifts his spirits.
The president’s two strongest instincts stand pitted against each other: his need for attention and his need to punish enemies.
The evidence that the president was lying was strong. His lips were moving, for one thing. But perhaps this time he was telling the truth.
The candidate has reached the peak of his career in the rec room of his basement, talking into a computer.
The president is topping even the greatest geniuses in the world, if he does say so himself.
The most disorienting thing about the president isn’t that he lies so often but that he so often tells the truth.
And yet no week of president-watching will lack for oddities.
The president’s words have tremendous power, sending countless Americans to bed with nightmares of Clorox enemas.
Like lots of fanatics, Tom Coburn, the former Republican senator from Oklahoma, was at bottom a moralist.
The world has caught up with us at last.
Mitch Daniels has frozen Purdue’s tuition—at less than $10,000—for seven straight years.
The classicists hope to address a problem that the architecture establishment does not see as a problem.
What the president understood that the zealous Republican reformers in Congress didn’t