I train the young man to fight, and what does he do with his time in college but acquire a degree in Early Medieval Norse Journalism?

Yesterday Cory paid a call on the old plantation house and brought various infernal audio-recording devices and a six-pack of quality beer into the toxic tree house, wherein this crackpot makes his den.

He interviewed the cracked pot of Caucasian Avenue about the recent confederate smack down in Charlottesville, was promptly horrified that I blamed the police deaths on Deep State agents of the U.S. Government and began composing a witty disclaimer as he flinched visibly. He then directed the conversation to ancient boxing and the author’s thoughts on top modern boxers.

Before I knew it he declared the two hour interview done and headed out into what I hope is the first cool summer of the returning Ice Age, an event which should favor his kind in the long night to come.

Thanks, Cory.