I used to listen to William F. Buckley. What a horse's ass he was. He spoke in this highly affected manner, and very, v-e-r-y slowly, so that you had to wait five minutes for the fuck to finish a sentence. He would use the biggest words possible to make his sentences extra convoluted, on the principle that if he used big words, people would mistake them for big thoughts. He was this Harvard intellectual type, who had adopted some weird accent that was sort of English, but not quite. I've read that in his private life he was a total shit toward other people, in addition to being half crazy. It doesn't surprise me. The world lost nothing when he died, except another pretentious ponce, and we've got a bumper crop of those and don't need any more.