Andrew Breitbart sits in an Aeron chair at an iMac computer gazing out the sliding glass door of his Los Angeles home office. On the patio, a hula hoop and a portable basketball rim await his childrenโ€™s return from school. Breitbart, 41, dressed on this late-winter day in his standard work uniform of a dirty oxford-cloth shirt and grungy khaki shorts, looks more like a surf bum than one of the most divisive figures in Americaโ€™s political and culture wars. Then his BlackBerry rings. The woman at the other end of the line, conservative fulminator Ann Coulter, is among Breitbartโ€™s staunchest allies, and they soon are engaged in a spirited attack on liberals. โ€œTheir entire structure is writhing in diseased agony on the side of the road, and they donโ€™t even realize it,โ€ Breitbart says. But the left isnโ€™t the only object of disdain. โ€œIโ€™m sick of this effete GOP nothing sandwich,โ€ he adds, growing more animated.