Unlike you and Justin of Raleigh, I went to Obama’s web site, and discovered the link there leads directly to the Red Cross. I can think of a reason why anyone might want to go via the White House. That way they can be absolutely sure they’re clicking on the Red Cross and not a fake site set up to exploit the tragedy.

But let me be sure I have this right. You and Justin agree that Obama might steal money intended for the Red Cross to help the wretched of Haiti.

This conversation came 48 hours after many of us had seen pitiful sights from Port au Prince. Tens of thousands are believed still alive beneath the rubble. You twisted their suffering into an opportunity to demean the character of the President of the United States.

This cannot have been an accident. A day earlier, a sound bite from your show went viral, in which you said Obama would exploit the situation to please his “black followers — both the light-skinned and the dark-skinned ones.”

Sen. Harry Reid made his careless comment thoughtlessly. Yours must have came after some thought. A one-liner in code to please your listeners who enjoy hearing African-Americans discussed in racist language. Yes, racist — as anyone living in this country must realize.

Offensive, no regard for truth, appealing to the racist segment of the right. Classic Limbaugh.

It’s tough to muster much outrage, however. If you’re listening to Limbaugh for any reason other than morbid entertainment I immediately assume you’re dumber than a box of rocks.

What an awesome print ad. And of course, from the 80s.

Because the 80s were awesome.

Pat Robertson also claimed that Haiti was cursed because of a previous pact they made with the devil to rid them of the French.

Either Robertson’s God isn’t one I want anything to do with, or the Christian Right needs new voices.

Two years before, I met her. One year before, we found out about the cancer. Six months before, she finished the first round of treatment (and posed for this photo). Three months before, the cancer came back. Four days before her death, we were married. This picture says everything about who my wife was, how she lived, and how she died: with courage and grace, fighting the whole way.

Of all the art forms, photography has a special place in my heart.

I’m guessing this applies more to having dinner with the Emperor rather than lunch at a strip mall. Still, interesting.

Good sushi etiquette for me would be keeping it from coming back up.