In the summer of 1992, Rush Limbaugh saved me from myself. I was an 18-year-old high school graduate about to begin college, too impatient to wait for adulthood to come to me. So instead, I went in search of it the only way I knew how: by engulfing myself in presidential politics and the fascinating campaigns that summer between Bill Clinton, George Bush and Ross Perot. Like many idealistic teens, I was at first drawn to the youthful Clinton campaign and Fleetwood Mac's cheerful command to "Don't stop thinking about tomorrow." But then I started listening to Limbaugh and it...