The Value of Retaining Habits

Undaunted, Richard Lynn has with The Chosen People accomplished a yeoman's task in summing up work done thus far on Jewish intelligence.-- John Glad, undaunted in his own eugenics sphere.

The television network system, in its former monopoly on what viewers were fed, has a somewhat lengthy populism of its own in soft pedaling the Catholic tread on monotheism. The dowager wouldn't be able to remember the content of Sally Field's Flying Nun adventures even with a hypothetical inducement from Peter Thiel being willing to overlook my grimace, offering me a charitable donation to debate him like a fool on why my diffidence against homosexuality matters, but I do remember her self-effacing smile at the conclusion of her playful gymnastics had it about right, in the wholesome humility the public was willing to buy, the abuses pounding the doors of our district attorneys today then still an indulgence of Bad Catholics, according to latter day Commonweal contributors. There may be some hardy souls who point out that my willingness to destroy Presbyterian Homes as a fraternal brickbat stands in direct contradiction against my preference to preserve Roman Catholicism as an institution, but that is a huge thesis I inadvertently rolled into. It is easier this evening to disparage Michael Landon, rumble slightly about Della Reese and angel touches, and point out that Early Edition is beyond superficial, although, in its essential elements, it operates under the same premise as Joan of Arcadia, which respects itself.

However, Shanesia Davis has better facial expressions to pretend blindness than Audrey Hepburn does in Wait Until Dark. The dowager, in her most cursed moment of carelessness thus far, caught only the last 20 minutes of the thriller. Arkin almost looks like another actor. I am not attempting to be hard on the iconic princess. One wouldn't want to be shocked if she had really dug in, but blind people do have facial dysphoria. Here is the evidence of it in the unpleasant leftist Shaf Patel. (I knew it wouldn't work, but swallowed my loathing, followed him back, briefly, still suffering from brotherhood syndrome.) Saramago does imbue a grisly realism to his inexplicable parable of white death, but network never quite knows how to carry disability, pretend or otherwise, for itself. The able majority prefer not to notice, and the deprived, adapt and stiffen. Other than Chandler's sidekick, I am not sure what her role is in the series, other than to cross her fingers that she gets friended a cameo in the ever recurring confirmation bias.