Fresh Paint
Friday, March 26, 2004
So Tired
I can only burn hot with outrage for so long before I burn out, start thinking everything is hopeless, so why bother. Also, when your eyes have that mad gleam in them, no one wants to come near you, and probably because you smell, since you've been glued to the TV or google button or blogger icon.

If you google on Richard Clarke (no, I won't provide a link) this morning, you will find nothing about his actual testimony, but pages and pages of links to extreme right wing nonsense spouting the latest spin -- that the press is now proved to be liberal liberal liberal liberal (how many more times can I say this before the word has no meaning), even though favorable coverage of Clarke seems to have all but disappeared in favor of Rice's "gracious" attempt at distraction by saying, oh, she could lend herself for a few more hours of testimony. Behind closed doors, of course, and just to clarify a few points.

I am just so sick of it. And sick of Bush's shenanigans at some dinner, pretending to look under the table for WMDs, etc., which is really offensive. An alert reader sent me the clipping (which I'd seen elsewhere last night), and if you haven't, you can find it reported here. And they'll probably spin this into proving that liberals are so ivory tower and sensitive and can't take a joke and that we can't just have a good belly laugh about killing people. We all know that any time a Democrat has made a feeble attempt at humor, the conservatives (conservatives conservatives conservatives conservatives) are outraged.

But this is just politics, and it's to be expected. But it's also what turns people off politics, such that not even your family wants to talk to you for more than a minute on the phone.

Yikes! Such a beautiful spring morning it is, too (though gray and rainy). Doors and windows open, I will soon be stripping the plastic sheeting away (my house is old and drafty and I have no known traditional job) and maybe even washing them.

Didn't finish knitting the sleeve last night -- how is it that the last few rows always stretch into infinity? Will post this, and get to work, then maybe report back. Might try to paint in the back yard. Weather seems too iffy to devote to hauling all the crap to the field and then having to scramble.

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