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After eleven years living in Washington, D.C., part of me is just sick of this swamp. The superficial commentary, the power-driven egoists, the fake smiles, the obsession with image. That's why I'm moving to Los Angeles.

Is the Ron Paul campaign finally over? Depends on whom you ask.

It is difficult to determine where the "2016 moniker" came from, but those titles can be self-justifying -- reporters put them into stories to make their subjects seem more newsworthy, especially when the politician won't flatly deny it.

The calls from reporters started coming in at 10 a.m. -- every 20 minutes or so at first, then increasing in pace, so that in the two hours it took him to get from Richmond to the campaign headquarters in Burke he'd received between 60 and 70 calls.

To faithfully execute his office, the president needs to be able to go where he needs to go, and do what he needs to do, without distractions. It's in the nation's interest for the machinery of the presidency to run efficiently. If the Secret Service upstages the president, it makes his job -- whatever it is -- harder.

Mitt Romney's not the person you want to invite over for a beer. But if your house was on fire you'd probably be happy to have him as a neighbor.

What's your plan's deductible for a hospital visit? You don't know. What do you pay per month for health coverage? Most people don't know that, either. All of which makes it extraordinarily hard to communicate about the Affordable Care Act persuasively or effectively.

Despite living in a rural Montana county filled with conservative ranchers and small merchants, I've met only two individuals who back him, neither of whom went much further when we spoke than to laud their man for being "real" and disparage Romney as a slick phony.

They are the best kept secrets of any presidential campaign -- until someone overhears a whispered shout into a wrist microphone. Candidates who get Secret Service protection get to choose the code word that they'll be called -- perhaps for the rest of their lives, if they're lucky.

Senador Puertorriqueño has a lovely ring to it, and it's just the kind of moniker a presidential aspirant would love to tout if he's trying to pull off another upset in Sunday's primary. The only problem? Rick Santorum was my senator, and I've never heard of that.

Unless you're distantly related to a Mormon either by blood or through marriage, you can probably rest assured that you're not going to be baptized a Mormon when you're six feet under. You're safe. And by safe, I mean you're definitely going to burn in Hell. Good luck with that!

Tensions remain. But one reason why Monday's meeting between Netanyahu and Obama ended with less rancor than did their last tete-a-tete is that Israel is growing more comfortable with U.S. policy -- secret U.S. policy.

Even before Giffords resigned from Congress earlier this year, there was plenty of speculation about whether Kelly would run for her seat. "It's not my time either," he tells me. "I got my arm twisted a bunch." Will it ever be his time? "I don't know," he says. "You never know."

It should come as no surprise that here, in the restaurant, two separate people have come up and told him to run -- for what, it's not really important. Governor. Senator, again. Hell, President. Problem is Citizen Feingold is starting to enjoy himself.

What can one possibly add to the hill of hype that now surrounds the glorious Jeremy Lin, New York Knickerbocker? We are fascinated by his rise, but instead of focusing on his talent, which is raw and untested, we fixate upon his race and his biography.

Even as Romney continues to bring out his rotating cast of high profile endorsers like Christie, John McCain and Tim Pawlenty, Ann is still his best surrogate.

Buddy Roemer and Gary Johnson are considered boutique candidates, dismissed by the Republican party. And yet when you consider the level of crazytalk that has pervaded the Republican nominating contest, it becomes apparent the only thing keeping them from recognition is money.

Like Romney, they are polite and amicable. Like Romney, they show flashes of irritation with lesser people. Like Romney, they're what he might call "unemployed" -- the rising generation of seniors, nouveau retirees or people in the closing years of profitable careers.