In the essay that opened his notorious book, “Advertisements for Myself,” an irrepressible 36-year-old Norman Mailer admitted that he had been running for president (in his mind) for ten years and his evident failure to win had left him “with the bitter exhaustions of an old man, and the cocky arguments of a bright boy.” Such a description sounds apt for our collective efforts at this blog, especially in light of the reception of Jim Livingston’s recent book, Dan Wickberg’s critique of MIH’s forum on the state and future of U.S. intellectual history, and the plight of many of my Read more