Restless

We’re now in days of semi-darkness, as light dims towards the solstice, and the country, still asleep, moves restlessly in its bed.

Before there have been moments of turning, of opening our eyes a moment, but the lullaby of the media, of our aristos, of the media-industrial complex dulled us back to sleep again.

For a full few minutes, we sat up, blinking, scared, int he wake of 9/11, but our lullaby-singers convinced us the scare had been a bad dream, conjured up by a bad man, and that all w...