Thus do I practice my Epicurean philosophy, sitting on my porch, a statue of Buddha by my side. As the troubles of the world multiply, I think of love and my friends, some "hid in Death's dateless night." I count my blessings. As soldiers die in Iraq, I think of ancient Mesopotamia, land between rivers of strife, thousands of years of war.
The struggle for power goes on. From California to Washington. Will Arnold really become governor? From Total Recall to ultimate recall. And Washington, ever the city of corruption. I feel only bemused detachment edging on decadence.
