Monday, November 14, 2005


I must have some repressed self-loathing, because my brain unleashed a fury of W’s drivel in my dream last night. I wish I could remember more of it, but the only phrase that remains (and picture him with his usual…

--I wish I could describe this particular expression more concisely, but I can’t quite reduce it to those few and precise words that would normally form a well-crafted insult (and, in this case, purely objective observation). It’s that look when he leans forward on a podium, eyes staring hazily forward as his brain fumbles for any series of words that could comprise competent speech, almost as if he expects the audience to gaze at him with admiration as he stares down with non-comprehension, asphyxiating arrogance, and something between conceit and pert ignorance, that fills you with rage at the man; for not only is he an idiot, but he clearly has opposite delusions about the same fact. It’s more than the vacancy between his ear canals, though; it’s the utterly false assumptions that he seems to possess about his own character and the character of his audience. I could rant for pages on this frustrating flaw in his moral and intellectual fiber. When he announced his Harriet Myers appointment to the Supreme Court (if you saw this clip on the news, you’ll know exactly the look that I want to capture) he said, (I paraphrase), “The best idea I’ve heard in a long time is to appoint someone to the judicial seat who has never been a judge (or practiced real law).”

…back to the dream) clear is, (W’ concluding his speech), “…so I figured if I can’t win an argument, maybe I can win a war.”

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