It is probably the weather. A Santa Anna is blowing and they tend to make me dippy; I just can't find anything in this fine world worth writing about.
The Iraq War continues to slog along; victory is undefined and, yet, impossible and there is no momentum towards ending it. A war with Iran is still in the wings and everyday is looking more likely now that Congress has passed a Tonkin Gulf-style Resolution in the form of the Lieberman-Kyl amendment. The bursting of the housing bubble and the resulting credit crunch is tanking the economy and we are possibly headed towards stagflation. Tuesday, Fred Thompson is making his first appearance as a cow in the presidential debate herd; I couldn't care less but it may be his last chance to show he has the attention span for a campaign. I have been trying to imagine what a Hillary-Rudy general election would look like but every time I start I have this urge to hide under my bed and whimper.
There are clouds gathering on the horizon. There are not one but many violent storms brewing that threaten to rend the nation like Wal-Mart bedding. I need a nap.