My Love Letter to James Wolcott

If you have never read James Wolcott, you need to change that. There is no one alive who enjoys the language more than he. Reading him is such a joy. His imagery, whether it is about pissed off women or the miserable main stream media, is unparalleled. He was a limited joy for awhile, coming to my door every month in Vanity Fair, but now he has a blog, too. In Vanity Fair, he writes alongside a liberal (he calls himself that, anyway) named Michael Wolff who I really can't stand to read. The two side-by-side are obvious contrasts, if only because Wolcott's use of the language is so pronounced. If he wasn't married, and well, a he, I might be inclined...never mind. Suffice it to say his writing is such a pleasure.