"Really? Who the fuck are you?"
Something to consider:

The other day, the conservative media jacked itself off with a farmer's milking machine over Bill Clinton's outlash at future seed-salesman Chris Wallace.

Today, Rupert Murdoch's New York Post made light of a death threat against Keith Olbermann. They described his receiving a threatening letter in an envelope full of white powder with phrases like "flipped out," "ascerbic host," "on-air schtick" and "caustic commentator." The powder turned out to be soap.

Even before prompted to by the blog post, I started wondering how the media would react if Lush Rimjob Rush Limbaugh received the same threat.

Then my mind wandered to a bad place that could get me arrested. It involved a Guy Fawkes mask.

My mind did a lot of wandering today. I took the Professor's book, Hegemony or Survival, with me to class. Once again I found its letter-stacked pages as dense as hickory beyond chapter 1, but now I know exactly why that is: it's a freakin' dissertation, a research paper in book form. The bulk of it is a typically Chomskyan long-winded list of examples to back up a paragraph-long thesis:


Though Bush planners are at an extreme end of the traditional US policy spectrum, their programs and doctrines have many precursors, both in US history and among earlier aspirants to global power. More ominously, their decisions may not be irrational within the framework of prevailing ideology and the institutions that embody it. There is ample historical precedent for the willingness of leaders to threaten or resort to violence in the face of significant risk of catastrophe. But the stakes are far higher today. The choice between hegemony and survival has rarely, if ever, been so starkly posed.


That's the important part of the important chapter. You don't need to read past chapter 1 unless you're interested in the exhaustive details.

I like what the Professor says even though he trusts anarchism a whole lot more than I do, but after four years of college the research paper format soundly defeats my efforts to concentrate. When trying to read further into the book, I found myself daydreaming about myself in dramatic confrontations with world leaders no less than three times -- confrontations similar to yet stronger than what Jon Stewart had last night, peacefully preparing a cup of tea for the President of Pakistan and toasting him before asking, as casually as can be, "Where's Osama bin Laden?"

I daydream about stuff like that sometimes to distract myself from particularly angrying news I read. I like to imagine myself as being able to change things with just a few words of truth spoken to power before an audience of six or seven figures. I like to imagine that doing so will shake them awake, shake everyone awake and make them look in a planet-wide mirror at themselves.

You know, fantasy.