lucidity, and sadness

Just to shake things up, I've started setting a radio alarm (NPR) for the morning, instead of a shrill, ambulance-in-your-skull beeping alarm. Also, I like to hit the snooze button.

This morning I woke up to hear that President Bush, at one or another talk, was trying to dispel rumors that the US is considering military (and possibly nuclear) action in Iran, presumably in retaliation for flouting the Security Council's non-binding non-resolution to stop nuclear bomb-making. The President said no military action is coming. Being more than half-asleep at the time, I snoozed for another 9 minutes. But before falling back to sleep, I remember thinking to myself, "I have absolutely no idea if he's lying. I have absolutely no faith that when the leader of my country speaks, he's telling the truth." He could say that 2+2=4, and I would question. Not because I have a particular grudge against the man or the office, and not because I have some sick desire to disbelieve everything he says. It's because I've learned, from experience, that this President lies, and it would be foolish of me not to doubt.

It reminds me of a children's fable I'm sure I've heard somewhere. Maybe the President should be reading Aesop to schoolkids, and to himself, instead of My Pet Goat.