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Bill Buckley, RIP

I'm sad to hear that William F. Buckley died.

When I was growing up, I always appreciated his big vocabulary, his wit, and his unintentionally goofy facial expressions. A true conservative blue-blood, he tends to represent the stereotypical image of a Connecticut Republican fat cat. Nevertheless, the man could think and the man could write.

I read National Review religiously in high school, and his Blackford Oakes spy novels got me through many Friday nights when most of my high school friends were out drinking and getting girls in the family way.

RIP, Bill. Hope God has a cigar and a sailboat waiting for you.


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