This morning I drove over to a local hotel in Claremont, California to pick up Walter Benn Michaels, who had agreed to speak to one of my classes about his provocative book, The Trouble With Diversity. While waiting for Michaels (who later gave a fabulous talk to my class, by the way), I glanced around the hotel lobby, and who should be lurking off in the corner but none other than our notorious National War Cox, Bill Kristol. I've been spooked before on Halloween, but seeing such a ghastly, disreputable character in my own neighborhood was pretty frightening (worse, I imagine, than sitting near him on a train). For a moment I thought about approaching him and introducing myself as someone who recently posted a Huffingtonpost blog titled, "Bill Kristol is One Sick Puppy." But then I worried that he might start publicly advocating that Claremont be bombed in the name of national security, so I kept to myself (after all, I've got small children to look out for). I will say that I plan to keep an eye skyward tonight, as we go trick or treating, on the lookout for black helicopters circling overhead. Surely Blackwater has been lined up as backup protection for Bill, as he delivers his blood-curdling Halloween speech (how appropriate, that the ghouls should all come out at the same time). Aaiiiiieeeee, the goblins are out for more blood, beating the war drums, and seeing one of these monsters in the flesh is truly chilling to the bone.