On the day after the surrender at Appomattox Courthouse, Abraham Lincoln appeared at a second-floor window of the White House. He was acceding to the wishes of citizens who had gathered to serenade their president in this moment of victory. They called for a speech but Lincoln demurred. Instead he asked the band to play "Dixie."
On Sunday, people all over the world will commemorate the morning an itinerant rabbi, falsely convicted and cruelly executed, stood up and walked out of his own tomb. It is the foundation act for the world's largest faith, a touchstone of hope for over 2 billion people.
Am I the only person in America not making fun of Howard Schultz?
The Starbucks CEO bought himself a ton of ridicule recently when he attempted to jumpstart a national dialogue on race by having baristas write the words "Race Together" on customers' cups of Cinnamon Dolce Light Frappuccino Grande or Caffe Misto Venti with extra coconut.
Dear Ashley Judd:
I guess this is a fan letter, though it is not written in praise of your work in movies like "Insurgent," "Divergent" or "Tooth Fairy." Rather, it's in response to the headlines you made last week when you called out Internet trolls who defamed you as a "b---h," a "whore," and a "c---" and threatened you with rape after you tweeted an opinion about an SEC basketball tournament.
You are, perhaps, already familiar with the Republican List of Things You Cannot Say. If not, here's a quick refresher:
This is for Gigi, who can't figure out why I don't like Bill Maher.
Gigi, a reader in West Palm Beach, wrote me last week noting that I agree with the star of HBO's "Real Time with Bill Maher" on most political issues. Yet I have, on previous occasions in this space, expressed distaste for him. "I just don't understand," wrote Gigi, "why you profess to dislike someone who is so like-minded. It baffles me."
Every once in a while the universe arranges itself to make you look smarter than you are. Lucky me, I am having such a moment now.
By now, it should come as news to no one that Ferguson, Missouri, has a lousy excuse for a police department.
First, they sang "God Will Take Care of You."
Then they walked out of Brown Chapel to a playground where they organized themselves into 24 groups of 25 each and set out marching. Their route out of Selma took them onto Highway 80, which is carried over the Alabama River by a bridge named in honor of Confederate general and Alabama Ku Klux Klan leader Edmund W. Pettus.
I am not insane. For this, I have Jon Stewart to thank.
That was the subject line of an email a colleague sent me last week. In it, she forwarded a link to a story that had Iowa Republican Sen. Joni Ernst telling a Des Moines radio host that Congress should outlaw vaccines because they "manipulate brains."
In June, it will be 52 years since George Wallace stood in the schoolhouse door.
There's this speech I give my students. Distilled, it goes like this.
"Your primary asset as a journalist is not your dogged curiosity, your talent for research or your ability to make prose sing on deadline. No, your one indispensable asset is your credibility. If you are not believable, nothing else matters."
I call it the Secret Knowledge.
Meaning that body of information not everyone has, that body known only to those few people who had the good sense to go off the beaten path and seek it. It is information you'll never see in your "newspapers" or "network news" or any other place overly concerned with verifiable "facts" and reliable "sources."
He had his first major breakdown when he was 26.
A man who had been known for his sunny, outgoing temperament became suddenly sullen, silent and withdrawn. He spoke openly of suicide. It got so bad that a couple took him into their home to ensure he did not hurt himself.