Even now, Alex Jones can't relax. Two weeks after he enraged the entire country by naming the U. S. government as Suspect No. 1 in the bloody slaughter at the Boston Marathon, the radio host and avatar of modern American paranoia is on vacation with his family in Hot Springs, Arkansas. He goes to museums with his kids, takes in the Romanesque baths, laments the decay of the grand old hotels that drew high rollers like Al Capone and Franklin Delano Roosevelt, hikes up hillsides steamy with the mist from the natural hot springs that bubble right out of the rocks. But everywhere he looks there are fresh assaults on the American way of life, on liberty itself, and the raging radio voice that transforms him from a gentle family man into a ranting prophet keeps taking demonic possession of his soul.
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