The Day After

Now that I've had a chance to sleep for three hours, my despair has mellowed into a quiet, depressive rage. Still, if I see Rudy Giuliani's smug face on the television anytime soon I'm going to huck my shoe at him. The respite from news watching will make this post readable for young children. If I could have gotten online last night, it would have been a long string of expletives.

As it stands, I'll let my good buddy W.B. Yeats set the mood:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

...The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.