There are reports that mainline pastors all across America are avoiding sermons on the topic of hell.

One of the most enduring of all verbal sports is trying to interpret exactly what the Founding Fathers meant (or didn’t mean) when it came to setting down their usually eloquent ground rules for a new nation.

Today I am going to peer into my economic crystal ball.

There are reports that mainline pastors all across America are avoiding sermons on the topic of hell.

We must have health care reform now. Failure to do so will only result in the continuation of a failed system that will only increase in cost and the unnecessary loss of life. The high cost of care is hurting us all, whether you have insurance or not.

Everyone has one — a health insurance horror story, that is. Some of course are far worse than others, but they all share one common thread, the corporate dedication to excessive profit at the expense of subscribers.

Most of the time, members of Congress would do anything to get constituents to notice them. But this summer, a lot of our representatives act like they wish they were in the witness protection program. It appears that Americans are fed up and want to let their representatives know.

The Virginia State Bar blew it. Or came close to blowing it.

I start this week’s column with a quote from my favorite science fiction writer, Phillip K. Dick:

The most frequent question I’m asked about this column is where I get my ideas. Then, occasionally, someone will ask how I go about writing it. So, for those who asked (and those who didn’t), here’s the story.

It’s August, which means not much is going on in the news. We won’t really see coverage of the political races until after Labor Day, when school starts.

With all the hoopla, blustering and misinformation surrounding health care reform, it’s no wonder many Americans are confused, scared, angry, sweaty, nauseous and covered in a mysterious rash.

Let’s just make it easy on everyone and set August aside as Let’s Be Stupid in a Public Place Month.

I know a guy at Gold’s Gym who has a minor sports hernia. He says the injury is like a poultry pop-up timer, the kind you see on frozen Thanksgiving turkeys.

Do kids still collect baseball cards?

When the poetic line “Oh what a tangled web we weave …” was penned a few centuries ago, Sir Walter Scott had no idea what irony those words might have when applied to the 21st century’s world of blogs, tweets, Web sites and free expression.

When it comes to comparisons with some of my friends, I find that I am definitely a Luddite.

I find it hard to believe that my 2003 Mercury LeSable is a clunker. It only has about 78,000 miles on it, which in my minds says I’m just breaking it in.

This is a column by Rep. Frank Wolf detailing his view of health care reform. Gerry Connolly’s view is captured in a separate column.

This is Rep. Gerry Connolly’s take on health-care reform. Frank Wolf’s view is captured in a separate column.

I went out after dark to add some papers to the recycling bin the other evening. It was thoroughly dark and quiet except for the hum of air conditioners, and there was no one else around.

For the most part, we assume that we are in control of our cultural destinies. We believe that our ideas and goals are our own and that, guided by those, we determine the direction in which our culture travels.

It’s hard to argue with raising other people’s taxes.

I’m not sure why designer clothes always seem to place their labels on the outside. Prestige, I suppose, for the clothier and buyer.

Last week, the News & Messenger broke ranks with Dan Rather and much of the journalism profession and came out against the idea of a federal bailout for the newspaper industry.

Answer number 1: To prove to the possum it could be done.

I have not joined the texting generation. I do occasionally get a text message.

I had to interrupt myself this week from some of the other things I wanted to write about. 

During World War II, an ad in Sunday newspapers urged moms to “take a modern look at candy — as a food.”

Tomorrow, I turn 30.