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And the Good Troublemaking Goes On

I went to bed in tears last night.

They weren’t tears of pain or shock or outrage. They were the tears you cry when the last of your grandparents “goes home.” They’re the tears of grief at the loss you’ve suffered, and the tears that say “It’s your turn now.” You have to tell the stories you learned at their knees, as you go on to make a difference in the lives of others as they made a difference in your life.

I’m still in tears this morning, because I’ve got lots of stories to tell.

In Dire Need of Creative Extremists

Martin Luther King’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” is more than 50 years old, yet it reads like it was written yesterday. In that letter, King identified “the great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom” not as the hoodwearing Klanners or the poltically powerful White Citizens Council folks, but the Moderate. Fortunately, King also identfied the cure to that block, if only we’d embrace it.

It’s Called a Spine, not a Conscience

If burning sources that lie to you is not a cardinal rule of journalism, it damn well ought to be. I suspect that Marcy’s honest sources will respect her more for this, and her dishonest ones will be very very nervous. Isn’t that something that all journalists ought to strive for? Sullivan lauded Marcy for being a journalist with a conscience — which she is, but that’s not the point here. The point is that Marcy is a journalist with a spine.

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