Reading Maureen Dowd’s column today, which I do sometimes but not terribly frequently nowadays (NYT opinion page = yawn), I don’t even get it. There are so many mixed metaphors – Blanche DuBois, Tara, hippies, matter/anti-matter, butterflies, scorpions, prom queen. It’s like she’s somehow channeling the aliens from Mars Attacks!: ack! ack ack! ack! Nonsensical rambling, I would be embarrassed if I wrote that way – leaving aside the point of the column even.