Think of Iraq as "East Korea," because it was a shoot the cuffs war for the edification of Kim Jong Il to let him know we've now circled the SUVs. Iraq was about breaking adhesions, getting lean, staying frosty - in short, getting ready for the big Doug MacArthur Memorial Cage Match to come.

Ray Lewis knifed through those offensive linemen like a sucker-punch switchblade slicing between the ribs of some inebriated trash-talking punk outside a sports bar.

Yeah, this country's founding fathers are a bunch of dead rich white men, but they did set things up so you could come and sit at the table, so don't piss in the finger bowls, all right? Thank you. In return for unfettered economic opportunity and no government death squads, try to get along with your new stepmotherland, and don't be resentful if there's a set of house rules already in place.

Now I don't have anything against Mexican people, but for God's sakes, sign the gust book on the way in.

Drop the veneer periodically and be like "OK, I'm an imperfect human. Let's try to get through this."

It's ironic that in our culture everyone's biggest complaint is about not having enough time; yet nothing terrifies us more than the thought of eternity.

That secondary provides worse coverage than a Guatemalan HMO.