The Madness of King Trump and the Achilles Heel of Tech Billionaires

<![CDATA[When I was a little kid, Edgar the Eskimo lived in our refrigerator. I never saw the little guy myself, but apparently, he was just half an inch tall and VERY thirsty. For some weird reason, Edgar would only talk to Uncle Wally: My mom would say something like, “Aah! Who drank all 50 beers last night?” and Uncle Wally would mumble, “Edgar the Eskimo did. Leave me alone, woman” and fall back to sleep on the couch.]]>