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Columns

  • Dealing with some dirty business

    Now that I own acreage, I am renewing my relationship with something I’ve detested since youth: mud, the gooey stuff that just doesn’t vanish in a climate where temperatures might be 19 one day and 69 the next. The ground is muddy, then frozen, then muddy. You don’t have to be Darwin to understand that evolution.

  • SOUDER: 40 years of darkness since Roe v. Wade
  • Taking aim at youthful violence

    I heard the news today, oh boy. An elementary student in Maryland is suspended from school because he cocked and fired his finger at a classmate during a playground game. He committed a crime against school policy and got the maximum sentence. He will return to his reading, writing and ‘rithmetic as reformed and remorseful, his future hopefully snapped away from the edge of awful by an act of tough love.

  • Despite the quiet, a roar will remain

    The scene has no great artistic value, other than to galvanize one fictional man’s words with a living man’s conviction.

    Humphrey Bogart. Ed Hutcheson in the film Deadline USA. Crusading editor for The Day. He’s taking down a mobster, seeking the truth against a cunning corruptor looking to control his city. Hutcheson is winning. He is telling the truth. He is gloating.

  • SOUDER: So many questions, so little time

    It may come as a surprise to some, but sometimes when I have periods of uninterrupted time – like on a long car trip, or lying in bed before falling asleep at night – I think about life’s big questions.

    You know, questions like, when a cow laughs, does milk come out his nose? Or why does sour cream have an expiration date? And why do feet smell, but noses run?

  • So just how sweet was winning the Sugar Bowl?

    A lot of you of both the red and blue heritage have been trying lately to put the University of Louisville’s stunning victory over Florida into some sort of perspective, to make sense of the sensational, to find order in a moment of chaos. I’m talking about the recent football game, not the Elite 8 encounter in basketball last spring.

  • A perfect first snowfall day to play

    Wasn’t that a lovely gift for Mother Nature to deliver our first real snowfall on a Saturday during a holiday break? No work for many, no school for any and no planned hootenanny.

    The snow wasn’t too deep, the temp wasn’t too cold and the landscape The Artist painted was one of great elegance, Christmas card-quality and pure whiteness. We can even forgive its arriving four days too late to give Santa safe landings.

    Ultimate beauty, moderate temperatures and mild disruption equal the perfect snowfall.

  • SOUDER: Looking for ‘whirled peas’ at Christmas

    Well, the Mayan’s deadline of Dec. 21 has come and gone, and we’re still here. Perhaps surviving yet another false prediction of the end of the world caused you to celebrate Christmas a little more enthusiastically this year. Indeed, for most of us there was a great deal to celebrate.

  • A rhyme for the season 2012

    With apologies to Clement Moore, we adapt our rhyme for the season and wish you a very Merry Christmas.

     

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas,

    And up and down the street,

    Joy and happiness ruled,

    Not a frown did anyone greet.

     

    The residents were nestled

    All snug in their beds,

    Only post-holiday bills

    Put dread in their heads.

     

    And me with my laptop

    And the Mrs. with her iPad

    Were checking the late news,

  • Life’s dark moments enlighten perspective