The Morons Rule the World

I could hardly see to teach Doctor Faustus through my angry tears on Wednesday, and Thursday my mother called me in the office.

"How are you doing, son?"

"Oh, pretty angry and depressed, Mom."

"Really? Why?"

There followed more, but all I can remember is red starbursts behind my eyes and a moronic bleating sound.

And now for my semi-regular dose of unforgivable solipsism: it struck me today that even though 2004 is the year I finished my degree and got a job, I'm going to look back on it as the most depressing and agonizing year of my life. Even the misery factor of my having broken up with J.--I'm getting better, really, and she's most likely loads happier without me than she was with me--won't even wobble the needle of the pain meter compared to the planet-bursting agony that four more years of Bush will cause.

And to top it all off, I have to read sentences like "Shakespear is a unique, yet very smart man."