The Misanthrope’s Corner

I TRIED to watch the Promise Keepers Washington writhe-in with an open mind, but I didn’t last long. Barely an hour into it, my various reactions settled into the narrow end of my mental funnel and took on a unified familiar shape, until I saw not 700,000 men, but one man. The man every Southerner knows, the man no Southerner can avoid, especially in August when the Revival comes to town.

In short I saw Earl, who just got Saved.