Something is weird about this. I can't put my finger on it. And I really don't know anything about John Doyle or who he is, but how could anyone--and I mean anyone, left, right or sideways in this country--write such gentle, flattering, lovely prose when it comes to Mike Bullard and his schtick? I mean, the dislike of Dullard's so-called comedy is one of the things that unites us all. Something doesn't add up, IMO. If he's being paid to pen this stuff about a friend, I would like to know.