...it is hard to imagine what America would look like without the small and shrinking number of people who engage in painstaking, firsthand research in order to separate the truth from the body of supposed facts, and who keep the rest of us honest. A corollary of this insight, of course, is that much of what we think we know is wrong.
This New Yorker article about a truck driver who has become the world's authority on the first nuclear bombs is interesting.
1) The entire article I had to keep reminding myself to sub-vocalize the word nuclear as "nu-clee-ar" as opposed to my more natural "nu-cu-lur." It's a mispronunciation I'm trying desperately to drop and it's one issue on which I have complete sympathy for our current president. I grew up in western Nebraska, for god's sake, everyone pronounces it "nu-cu-lur" there.
I've actually considered whether or not I should just live with it as a nod to authenticity. Possibly I should even use the word more, especially in rarefied company likely to call me on it. "This is some nuculur brie, California's 46th District Congressman Dana Rohrabacher!" or "Our only hope is that when the nuculur bombs drop we still got good water in our cricks, Maya Angelou."
This, however, is the road that leads to me becoming a James Carville-like caricature of Midwesterness. You'll know this is the life I've chosen if you see me drinking pop and taking the ACT.
It's okay if you don't want to be my friend anymore.
2) Speaking of western Nebraska, at one point the article makes a reference to Scottsbluff only they call it "Scott's Bluff." Now, the county is Scotts Bluff, County, but, even giving them that one, that apostrophe is all New Yorker.
I wonder, did the town name not satisfy their archaic style guide? Perhaps Remnick and company should coördinate a fact finding mission among their most élite proof readers.