Sullivan calls his blog the "Daily Dish," and that's what it is -- a clear, on-the-nose commentary about current events -- anything, everything --no-holds barred. This man says what's on his mind.
It is THE blog to read, if you are a blogger as I am, and want to be inspired, affirmed, in what you are doing every day.
Fran, my blog coach, follows Andrew Sullivan's Daily Dish, and three other blogs, as well as Em's Talkery.
I need a coach. I never read a blog until March of 09, when Fran said,"Try writing a blog, Em!" (Back then I had a dial-up modem, no high speed anything -- I went on line to buy books, that's all.)
Like an artistic director, Fran's been guiding and encouraging me, suggesting cuts, fixing inaccuracies and typos, and suggesting "write more" when additional facts would give the subject I'm writing about more validity.
And, occasionally, Fran sends me links to the Daily Dish, when Sullivan has written something that I might want to tackle on my blog.
I feel as if I'm at the top of a 70 foot ladder, diving into a 6 x 6 pool of water below, when I say -- I don't like to read Sullivan.
The top blogger, sharp mind, author of five books, a man who's been a major columnist for Time Magazine, and the Atlantic Monthly?
His background makes me gulp and feel small, like a greedy kid who gobbled a whole pie when I really wasn't that hungry.
(Whoa -- a high diver, a hungry kid? These images mean Em is afraid to say what's on her mind.)
I do not like Andrew Sullivan. His tone bothers me. His knife-like summaries seem snarky, condescending; the look on his face in the picture says who the hell are you, kid?
I don't trust him even when he's influencing me. (And he does, his opinion and mine are often similar, on the same wave length.)
Is it because he's Gay? That, and other private life stuff I've read about him, is miles away from my feelings. His dogs, his Catholicism, his HIV illness, this guy nevertheless pursuing citizenship -- all that is why I'd like to be a supporter of Andrew Sullivan, who is leader and a major voice.
But I feel anger in what he says. I feel his concern -- deep concern for what's going on in the world, and no lovingness, a rejection of mankind. He seems walled in -- talking loudly, articulating every word -- every vowel, consonant, and syllable -- but off by himself.
I don't want to read his words and pick up his feelings. He is too angry.
I'm not. I'm rueful, perhaps.. I hate cruelty, and feel mostly cruelty, a sardonic, sour, stinging humor in him -- not laughter, warmth, love. It's too bad Andrew Sullivan won't see this post. Ouch -- I bet if he did, he'd tear me apart, with his brilliant, perceptive logic.