Your eloquence is exceeded only by one thing—the love that exists between you and your Father.

In an age and time where Ignorance is the hottest trending commodity in the marketplace, Ms. Bartlett's piece stands as a faux-literary Walmart.

Here, here! This man had the titanium testicles to point out an obvious inconsistency in America's Team's value hierarchy, and bless him for doing so.

If that disqualifies his critique in your humble estimation, then you're brain dead. Get to a coroner, get a toe tag, and be off with you.

Great piece: fluid, insightful, and not afraid to characterize the manner in which Life oozes in all directions once you've addressed such an essential element of your being.

The beauty in this image is of the potential duality embodied in that most blissful rendezvous, the kiss.

Yeah, but more to the point, negligent parents will be negligent parents.

Never one to miss a new marketing opportunity, today McDonald's announced their latest iteration of the Happy Meal, ISIS edition.

Having to witness some of the worst parenting imaginable (I have served food in extremely upscale venues for quite some time), I think the topic of this piece is even more important today, when basically kids get slathered with praise for drawing a breath.

I think it's called Homophilia.

If you're suggesting that these formats provide the springboard to greater awareness, analysis, and understanding of issues that deserve as much, then I certainly agree. I think the danger of these formats is that the speed/scope that is the basis of their allure outruns other considerations that might be better off…

Well, I thank you for them, no snark whatsoever.

My friend, let me ask you this: have you ever heard of an instance in which Twitter benefitted its author, beyond the speed with which said Tweet was published?

So sheer numbers is the metric by which something's ultimate quality is assessed?

I respectfully dissent. I think the phenomenon that is Twitter is squarely the issue here.

Somewhere, an agent sheds tears of unbridled joy: a non-Twitter clause.

They are evil incorporate, truly. Every decision they make is for but one reason: to make money, by any means possible.

I don't know from Twitter, but call me crazy here: any technology that from what I gather can take my fastest, least intelligently developed thoughts, snippets, or neuro-rectal effusions and catapult them into the unsuspecting world at a a speed faster than sound, slower than light, that technology is a…

Back in 1978, I daresay Mr. Ali was at the peak of his fame. The summer of that year I was living in Washington, D.C., working as an intern for a grassroots lobbying group. I was the quintessential poor college kid with no discretionary funds for entertainment: So, I walked. Everywhere.

As delivered by the First Lady, "And you are…?"