God Willing, the Bottom of the Barrel.

The entire NPR commentary is contemptible, with Rod invoking Andrew Sullivan's theatrical outrage and 9/11 and his children, all the while positioning himself as a Carter-hating Reaganite when he just spent a year praising the "malaise" speech and villifying economic conservatives as godless materialists.

Rod continuously sets new lows in making completely asinine comments; I pray it gets no lower than this, the single most ridiculous sentence ever uttered by a thirty-nine-year-old who doesn't suffer severe mental retardation.

Naturally, it comes from the lips of a self-satisfied pseudo-intellectual.

I turn forty next month: middle age at last, a time of discovering limits, finitude.

Someone should tell the ridiculous little schmuck, the chimeric nothing of a man, the unprincipled hack: YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DISCOVER LIMITS AND FINITUDE WHEN YOU'RE A CHILD.

It's what happens when a beloved grandparent or pet passes away, or when those little lighting bugs you collected last night are dead in the jar the next morning, or when you watch Bambi or Ol' Yeller for the first time. Soldiers half his age understand that there are limits to human life, as do kids who've already buried their parents or had to endure cancer themselves.

I'm not sure whether it's worse to conclude that he sincerely believes what he said or whether, incredibly, he actually thinks it was a clever segue from his personal narrative to the limits of American military might. But a man who deliberately broadcasts nonsense that severe has no business weighing in on Christianity, political conservatism, foreign policy issues, parenting, or any other serious topic.

Other than a comment here or there, I'm back on hiatus, but it was worth the minute or two to point out -- in the strictest sense of the term -- Rod's single most juvenile thought.