I have loved Salon since its earliest days. I log on four or five times a day. Sometimes more; maybe more since Bush got "elected" president. (Does he even get to preside over one single thing? This seems kind of mean and withholding. There must be one thing he could preside over without looking like an idiot. I feel like his people really aren't giving him a fair shake. I think they treat him like the maitre d'. I think he could preside over -- oh, wait a second, I spaced out. Now I can't remember what it was. It will come back to me.)
I love Jake Tapper. I love Joe Conason. I love Amy Reiter's gossip column. I love Joan Walsh. (They should give her a raise.) I totally trust the movie and book reviewers.
I love that Salon exists. It calms me down, and stimulates me, and makes me laugh out loud. It alleviates my fears: Some days I get so worried about the whereabouts and health of President Cheney that I can hardly focus on anything else; so I turn to Salon, and someone there almost always seems to know where he is.
I subscribe to Salon Premium because I support Salon both as a magazine and as a movement; and because I love smart writing about politics and do not want to miss a single column; and because I cannot bear to miss Friday's gossip column, which you can only get if you subscribe.
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