When Murray Rothbard was asked to account for his writing output, he would sometimes reply, “Hatred is my muse.” By this he meant that he would read something — a book, an article, an op ed, whatever — and he would be filled with a loathing for its content. He would be almost driven to blast away at it, swearing a mighty oath that the offending verbiage would not be allowed to stand unanswered. Right now I have in front of me a piece by sob sister Anna Quindlen (Newsweek, 4/15/02) extolling the virtues of Take Our Daughters to Work … Continue reading Don’t Take Your Daughter to Work