> One of the few books Dubya has read, "The Dream and the Nightmare, "
Very timely. Here's what I remember of last night's dream...
Ten or fifteen people moving about in the large front room of an apartment, with a general air of busyness/expectancy - various individuals engaged in discussions and planning, a few black bloc-ers, activists and others, all looking very purposeful, with an eye on the clock...
And all casually dressed, save one individual wearing a suit, albeit seeming a bit uncomfortable in same - constantly fooling with the collar, tucking in the shirt, etc. The individual wearing the suit, standing impatiently looking over my shoulder as I sit at the dining room table (which has been converted into a workspace) is Dubya himself, and I'm showing him how to use a very small t-square ruler to draw a Perot-esque x/y axis graph in a spiral notebook, amidst the frantic activity and quiet cell-phone murmurings all around us.
I pencil in a 90 degree angle, measuring the various delineations up the left side of the page, etc. as Dubya looks on and I try to make eye contact and get him to absorb the fundamentals of graphing. But he seems distracted as the clock tics and the activity continues around us, activity leading up to some unspecified rendezvous with destiny in an hour's time at some unspecified location not far off from where we're working.
And standing a few feet away, near the wall in the corner so as to keep out of the way of the people rushing back and forth, is a smiling Michael Pugliese (who I've never seen, by the way), clutching a large sheaf of papers to his chest with a conspiratorial smile on his face.
I awaken, mumbling "1/4 inch up, pencil in the line here, move the ruler another inch..."
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/ dave /