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Marc Mason is a freelance writer based in Tempe, AZ.

Friday, May 30, 2003  
Tired. Old. Fed up.

Each day brings more heat from the skies, more lies from our criminal government. There are no weapons of mass destruction, except those we used. The Iraqi museum wasn't looted nearly as much as reported. Jessica Lynch wasn't shot or stabbed, and appatrently never fired her gun at an enemy soldier. And the new tax cut will help stimulate the economy. Really, everything coming from the lips of our government officials is the equivalent of "Of course I'll respect you in the morning, and I promise not to come in your mouth." It's depressing. I want some truth, dammit.

The sun has started to blast here, and I swear it gets more difficult to deal with the heat every year. I think it's age settling in in a tangible way. That blows. Wasn't the gray hair and balding enough? Is gravity not a harsh enough mistress?

I feel bitchy, and you shouldn't have to hear that. Sorry. But I'm despairing right now, and it only looks to get worse, because the Democrats lined up for 2004 look like the biggest group of pussies they could find, and no one seems to want to make a stand about anything. And I'm still too young to run.


9:47 PM

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