by Brent Bozell III
Dear Christo,
About that Daily Beast piece, “Quit Redefining Conservatism.” You don’t call, you don’t write. Really, either would have worked. Heck, I’d have accepted a tweet.
Hey, Brent. Just want to let you know I’m dropping a cluster bomb on you. And how’s the fam?
I’d have been civil about it.
Up yours. And everything’s well with you?
Let me get one personal item off my chest before we get to business. What, Christo, is the meaning of this: “Cousin Brent has a razor-sharp mind and a greyhound-quick tongue….” I know you’re trying to be kind, and you know I love you dearly in return, and when’s the next time we’re going to have Old Fashioneds at the club in Camden, but…greyhound? I think greyhound and I think smoky, chugging, coughing, slow, polluted, stuttering, low-rent, can’t-afford-airline-fare Greyhound Bus. Thanks, cuz. Can I propose that maybe next time you write that I have a “Trailways quick tongue”? It’ll make no sense. But it’ll just sound better.
