I generally avoid reading Maureen Dowd’s column in the NY Times. I couldn’t help but notice that her column of yesterday, My Private Idaho, excoriating President Bush for moving his base of operations to Texas for five weeks, is #1 on the Times’s most-emailed list this morning.
Reading the column merely confirmed my opinion that Dowd is a vacuous, self-important twit. I never cease to be amazed at how virulent she can be in denigrating anyone who doesn’t meet her exalted standards (translation: anyone who doesn’t agree with her views on How Things Ought To Be). Dowd seems implacably opposed to admitting that President Bush might have any redeeming qualities to him, or that his so-called vacations aren’t exactly piña coladas on the beach. It must be nice to be a Mistress of the Universe, able to shower down vitrol from the Times’s Olympian heights, without bearing any responsibility for little things like, oh, world peace or the lives of American military personnel.
I now return to my practice of not reading her stuff.
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