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"I haven't the slightest idea," said the Hatter.

"Nor I," said the March Hare.

Alice sighed wearily. "I think you might do something better with the time,"
she said, "than wasting it in asking riddles that have no answers."


And yet, we continue to ask. What on earth are we doing? How did we get into this mess?

Tomorrow is that anniversary again. Another year gone by; another year at war.

The other day, on the morning Pundit Radio Hour, the sensible and knowledgeable Thomas Powers mentioned the thing I am most scared of if Bush gets elected: that we will invade Iran. Insane? Unlikely? Impossibly foolish? Well, everyone tells me that I'm worrying too much, that Iran is a real nation-state and we wouldn't dare. That Iran has a standing army of half a million men and mechanized weapons systems; that we don't have the resources for a third war. But when have such considerations ever stopped us? Or indeed any imperial power?


Why is a raven like a writing desk? Let's consult the source himself. Lewis Carroll always has an answer to the unanswerable questions:

Because it can produce a few notes, tho they are very flat; and it is nevar put with the wrong end in front.

Hm. Nevar put with the wrong end in front: that's us.

Yep, right again, Mr. Dodgson.
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malsperanza

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