You can only have one aim per debate.

I'm here as a product of process of evolution, which doesn't make very many exceptions. And which rates life relatively cheaply.

Beautiful sentences pop into my head. Beautiful sentences that aren't always absolutely accurate. Then, I have to choose between the beautiful sentence and being absolutely accurate. It can be a difficult choice.

Three words for those who want to put the Christ back in Christmas: Jingle Bell Rock.

When I go to the clinic next and sit with a tube in my arm and watch the poison go in, I'm in an attitude of abject passivity. It doesn't feel like fighting at all; it just feels like submitting.

I'd always somehow felt slightly as if I'd been born in the wrong country.

I am, I hope, never offensive by accident.