Kevin Myers: A free admission: I'm sorry, Mr President
One of the most dreadful features of the internet is that just anyone can go back through online newspaper archives and see how wrong I have so often been. My opinions have been enacted in a public forum almost since Methuselah played with Lego, and now they're all available in ghastly array -- the many, many times when I have been wrong or stupid or misinformed or lazy or hasty or arrogant or insensitive.
You can be wrong in whatever you say, and little will remain of it in 24 hours: within a week it will be as tangible as a salmon fart in hyperspace, and within a decade it'll be as vanished as the light shed by the sun when the Earth was a lad.
Not me. Everything I've said in my columns is now on the record, for all time. I occasionally trawl through my opinions, and with much mortification and shame I wonder how I could have been so utterly cretinous -- last week, last year or last century. But in no matter was I as wrong about anything as I was in my assessment of Ronald Reagan, made in the era when I was a card-carrying, dyed-in-the-wool PC lefty, when all my opinions were like books borrowed from the great liberal-library of anti-capitalist and US-phobic mythology.