As racial violence splits America, I’m reminded of the riots of the sixties, the inflammatory language used, and a grim pattern, doomed to repeat.
Lockdown? Social Isolation? Been There, Done That
As part of my house arrest, I spent five months in isolation. But this time around, I see nothing but positivity and opportunity.
Hinch’s Hunch: Despite the Hype, the Democrats Won’t Back Bernie
On Super Tuesday, America sat at a pivot point. However, those calling for Bernie Sanders should examine George McGovern’s doomed push of 1972.
Linotype, Fax Machines, and Ashtrays With Doors: Musings on Six Decades in the Press
This year marks my sixtieth year as a member of the press. I’ve witnessed the birth of both the 24/7 news cycle and the smokeless journalist.
A Quick Word: Language Is Dead, and We Killed It
As far as I’m concerned, the concept of grammar and language will soon go the way of the dinosaurs. However, that may not be a bad thing.
White House Charters: On the Road Again
As this election cycle continues, Derryn Hinch recalls some Hunter S. Thompson-type moments on the American presidential election trail.
Port Arthur Massacre: “He Got My Gwen”
On the 20th anniversary of the Port Arthur Massacre in Australia, Derryn Hinch remembers the man in the lift who turned to him and said, “He got my Gwen.”