He strolls down Pennsylvania Avenue, past "Stop the Torture" signs. Oh well. His approval ratings stink, but he still has Laura -- and there's always Dick.

What ever happened to good old-fashioned, get-your-hands-dirty work?

As Ahab drove the Pequod and its crew into oblivion, so our maniacal president ignores sane advice and surges forward into chaos.

I'm exhausted and just want my doc to send me to a posh hospital with a terrace. But noooo!

The Republicans are meeting down the hill from my house. What are they trying to say?

Get a grip. We have passed the great test of a republic to survive the most incompetent leadership ever.

Ralph Reed's shameless snookering of Christian congregations should spell doom for his political career. But will it?

A few puffs of smoke from the other side and you're ready for martyrdom? Get a grip

Where else could an Arizona multimillionaire attack a Chicago South Sider as an elitist and hope to make it stick?

A word of advice from a friend: If your GOP pals turn on you, take them down with you.

When you don't understand the language, it's easier to find the dumb childlike wonder that's the essence of the season.

Maybe a period of stark repression will be a rich and rewarding experience for all of us. Who needs habeas corpus anyway?

It's time to get out of the political boneyard where old hacks sit grinding their gums over the burning questions of 1968.

With column revenues down, I must make some hard choices. I will now spend 15 minutes writing these 750 words. Thank you for your patience.

Salon's former Mr. Blue talks about his new novel, the old New Yorker, romantic regrets, broken dreams, and this crazy thing called life.