Anyway, M. Trudeau (Justin) now has a very disagreeable task before him: Not to say, really, what it is about international politics as they now stand, that makes the murder of seven score innocent (Are there any other kind?) Canadians, a mild, acceptable stand-down in international confrontations. What if, Justin, you told the truth?
I burn hot. I tend to exhaust people in conversation, like Margaret Fuller did Carlyle. Which leaves me (but apparently not Margaret) always wishing I'd shut up sooner. I have quite a few friends and not many enemies, but I'm very proud of the few I do have. There is consensus among my friends about me, which is how I know to write about myself. What my enemies think of me I have no idea. That, of course, could be dangerous.
The list of interests and favorites is absurdly partial and half-assed, particularly as to music and books. It's the stupid format of the blog itself, as given, that, of course, I color outside the lines and burst the seams of.
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