Have you ever noticed that, during our most somber hours, our favorite comics disappear? Jon Stewart goes on vacation, Letterman regurgitates reruns, and Leno, well, Leno, just isn’t funny anymore.
But, sometimes, during such hours, a clown is born. In the 24-hour news cycle, it seems one is born every minute.
Last Thursday night, I was wallowing in a rather somber hour as I waited for The Daily Show to come on. I turned to CNN, hoping for some good news.
My mom had died two weeks earlier, a dear friend had just relayed the bad news about a mass in her lung, while another was living with lymphoma. And, the last I’d checked, my sister was out of work, the American Dream was given last rites, and the working class was in the trenches of an all-out war on unions, while the poor were a forgotten bunch altogether.
I couldn’t imagine things getting gloomier. But they did, and then some.
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