Sometimes I indulge in snark. Sometimes I go too far in an emotional moment. But sometimes — when I’m at my most reasoned and rational — I actually try to speak the truth as best I can discern it, divorced from my preconceptions.
At my best, I fall short of the standard achieved here, by the editors of The New Yorker, in their endorsement of John Kerry: The choice.
This essay contains truth in roughly the same density that a neutron star contains matter. The cases against Bush, and for Kerry, are laid out clearly, concisely, and with a shockingly nonpartisan honesty.
I still have my uncertainties about what will happen next Tuesday (or, God forbid, thereafter) to determine the next president of this country. But on one point, at least, I can put my fears to rest: I know that the case has been made, irrefutably, for anyone with eyes to see.