The news is true: On May 18th, I'll be moving about two blocks east and two blocks south to the Washington Post's massive building. I will have part of a desk rather than much of an office. I will not have natural light. This blog, too, will change its home, moving to the "columnists and blogs" area of the Post's Business section. It will have a gray and white color scheme rather than a red one. It will have a .com address rather than a .org.
For all that, the site won't change much. As now, the core subject area will be domestic and economic policy issues. That means the financial crisis, health care policy, cap and trade, the budget, the congressional process, and all those other fine topics that let me deploy the charts and graphs I so adore. It will still have posts on, say, Clarissa's little brother, and why people applaud at the opera, and what the tea parties means. That is to say, it will still have opinions and conclusions and reporting and emotion and concerns.
It is, after all, a blog. It has a voice and a character. And the Post gets that. It's of little use to them if you all aren't around to read it. More to the point, it's of little use to me if you aren't all around to read it.
That said, this is an exciting opportunity in many ways. In particular, I'm looking forward to shamelessly leveraging the Post's good name to attract more expert commentary to the site. I'm hoping that associating myself with Woodward and Bernstein will convince academics and policy makers to return my befuddled calls more quickly. That should, in turn, make the blog more useful and valuable to you. Which is, at the end of the day, the point. I owe a lot of thanks to a lot of people. To The Prospect, of course, for more than I can possibly say in this post (but will say in another). To Jesse Taylor, for his invitation to join Pandagon. To my friend Matt Yglesias, for his example and early links. But most of all, I owe you, my readers, thanks. Without you, I wouldn't keep doing this. And even if I did, no one would care.