The end of the world, apparently:
Ms. West writes with great flair. She has a columnist’s talent for seizing on arresting facts and locating the sort of outrageous incident guaranteed to make the blood boil. She has a sense of humor. What she doesn’t have is a sense of proportion. Nor does she have the intellectual firepower to make the argument she wants to make. The death of the grown-up has preoccupied her, she says, for the last decade. This is a remarkable admission. Ten years in the oven, and the theory still comes out half-baked.
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