I'm not sure what that means.
In my impression, William F. Buckley was a very, very reptilian person. Cold and dry and smooth and still, and utterly oblivious to the warm-fuzzy concerns of mammalian brains and minds.
I had a pet boa constrictor for many years, I know something of the reptilian mind. And I'm telling you, there's no way Buckley could have lived so long without swallowing a strangled rat every day.
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