Sales Pitch

I doubt I’ll have any other speaking opportunities in the near future that involve shouting at the top of my lungs in a crowded bar. (Which is a shame). So I thought I’d reproduce for posterity the tail end of my remarks Thursday evening:

And I also say, buy my book. It’s a book that is many things:

it is an arrow against tyrants, and a barbaric yawp from one man’s couch;

in a campaign season dominated by mindless crap, it is a cleansing high colonic for the mind;

and it, perhaps more than anything, a love song. A love song for the beautiful losers, the Gerald Fords and the Calvin Coolidges, the Tafts and the Harrisons and the Hardings. For the presidents who get no respect from historians and talking heads, because they didn’t do enough, they didn’t blow enough stuff up, they offered no New Deals, no New Frontiers, no Great Societies, no nuthin’. They were presidents who were content to preside over peace and prosperity without screwing it all up. It’s a love song to them. It sings, where have you gone Warren Harding? A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.

Woo ooh ooh. Woo woo woo.

All that for 10 bucks. You can’t go wrong.

Yawp.

Posted on Jun 29, 2008 in Asides, Cult of the Presidency | Comments

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