It is a truth universally acknowledged (or at least held as gospel by features editors everywhere) that a mouthy judiciously opinionated Gen-X writer in possession of a toddler must be in want of a blog. And so herein I do my duty: To my generation. To my son’s Googling prom dates. (Hi, Chkaittlynne!) And to George Will.

Lie back and think of England.

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