This morning the Globe and Mail greeted me with a picture of George Bush from the eyes up, like Kilroy over a brick wall. Then I read the story that starts with:

“President George W. Bush asserted yesterday that it was lawful for him to secretly order wiretapping of telephone calls to and from the United States, despite a 1978 law banning such intercepts without explicit authorization from a special court. ‘It is legal to do so,’ Mr. Bush said, claiming special authority as commander-in-chief during a time of war. ”

THE BILLOWING RAGE paralyzed me for a moment. Then many curse words were cast in the general direction of the newspaper, a silly place to aim curse words, yes, but the best target considering I am in an office with many people who, despite their many issues, are NOT GWB and thus undeserving of my wrath. (Or Goddessa’s, for that matter. Let me get to the photocopier story later when I have more time.)

My I’m wordy today.

And then I was reminded of a reference on the internet recently to a particular t-shirt. So I went looking for the t-shirt. And I found this page of anti-Bush whatnot, the browsing of which made me feel a lot better. I also found this kick-ass piece of design and the slogan I was looking for.

Then I put on some Weezer. I love Weezer. Weezer helps. And thinking about the dream I had two nights ago where there was a young moose and its mother chasing me down Thurlow Street also helps. There was also a wolf in the dream, but it wasn’t interested in chasing me.