Trenchant Lemmings
Pointed missives thrown blindly into the void, there to pass unnoticed and unloved.

This is a hell of a time to start a weblog. One issue, one obsession, everywhere I look. We're going to war, like it or not. So what's my opinion on that? On what - going to war or that my opinion about going to war is irrelevant? Is there a possibility of meta-anger here? "I'm angry because no-one cares that I'm angry." There's a T-shirt slogan for you.

It's like the dreams you get when you fall asleep with the radio on. You can still hear the broadcast so it becomes part of the dream. Sometimes, there's a radio in the dream, chattering away. You turn down the volume, flick the off switch, nothing happens. You pull out the plug, you tear the set apart, and the chatter doesn't stop. Nothing you do makes any difference. The sound is coming from a different world and you only think it's real. That's what this is like, except that it's our leaders who are living in a dream.
"He's dreaming now," said Tweedledee: "and what do you think he's dreaming about?"

Alice said "Nobody can guess that."

"Why, about you!" Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly. "And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be?... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream!... I hope you don't suppose those are real tears?"
Gosh. Only the second post and I'm already quoting children's literature. Hopefully things will improve with time.

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