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dark don

I wondered this week about a dark Don Quixote: someone whose mind is muddled, whose head is swirling not with books of chivalry and heroism, but rather with endless, rapid flow of cable news; someone who charges ahead on an undefined quest, driven by the illusion of who knows what; someone who flies through the air, and wears a distorted costume of industry and virility, the uniform of “a man who gets things done.” He tilts at windmills, but in this story the windmills are real giants, real armies.