I live in a small town in the midst of soybean and corn fields. Everybody who lives here can tell you the month and year when the last violent crime took place, and whom it involved. So it should come as no surprise that I find myself wishing, some days, that I didn't know about this and this from Gateway Pundit. In the days before daily newspapers, before radio, television, and internet news, somebody living out here in the sticks could go his entire life without hearing of wars overseas, without knowing for certain that there even was an overseas.
Sure, some days it's nice to hear what's going on out in the world. But on a cold morning, when the wind whistles through an uninsulated house, it's nice to pretend, just for a while, that the weather is all there is to think about. And sometimes, the newspapers agree with me, there.
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