Just as everyone has his favorite crime, so everyone has his favorite dictator.

Anger is always a hazard of politics in ages of rapid change, but it has not always been as dangerous as it is now.

The good news is that she lost. The bad news is that he won.

The older, raw, honest tyrannies told people what not to speak.  But the new, wilier versions, midwifed by our famous human rights overseers, are proposing to insist on what we must speak.

Exactly eight years ago I wrote a column titled "The One We Were Waiting For" in which I referred to a book by Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson, The Lord of the World.

In a clean good world, the competition for the office of the president of the United States should be solemn, edifying and dignified, marked by the grace and courtesy of its aspirants. 

Do you believe her? Nope. 

I am in selective agreement with almost everyone. 

You have to consult the Lamentations of Jeremiah to find a grim parallel to the wailing and gnashing of Europhile teeth after the Brexit side won the recent referendum in the U.K. 

The term "elitist" has been bandied about so promiscuously in this election cycle that it's become virtually content-free.