I thought I’d delay my next rant on Trump since it’s Remembrance Day; a day that’s always left me feeling a mite uncomfortable.
Not because I dislike the day for what it represents any more than I dislike Christianity for its message of love, compassion, and compulsory donkey ownership. No. I object to the way the message has been corrupted by the usual types: the cultish, the brutish, and, yes, in this case, the all-too-proud-to-be-British.
It's hard right now to untangle the good bits of remembrance from the bad.