I've been practising yoga. It's great--I'm really learning how to connect with my inner peace and body. Breathing rhythmically while bent at various ninety degree angles is truly a relaxing and meditative practice. The Zen masters claim that by slowing your breath to your body's natural rhythm's while focusing your mind on the Present can bring such stillness and peace, you can undergo surgery without pain medication, or sit for days in still meditation. I wasn't too sure about these claims until this morning.

I was bent in child's pose, contemplating my hollow eyes and the deep crease between my knees. I felt the strength and balance of my arms and the natural length along my spine. Suddenly, a voice came through--clear and ringing. It was President Bush.

Somehow, my Deep Meditation brought my existential plane in sync with his. It was truly eye-opening; at first, I thought I might be listening to the primal thoughts of the early-evolved, until one thought clearly came in: "I ain't no Goddam Chimp". The voice was faltering and unsure, but easily recognized. It was George Walker Bush the II.

Continuing to breath, hoping he didn't feel my presence, I listened in on his brainwaves. It was quite a tirade. I hope to capture the essence of the diatribe.

"...liar, they call me? LIAR? I read the Constitution...once. Then, we did a skit about Paul Revere and 'one if by land, two if by sea'. See? I remember! And who are these people telling me that wiretapping isn't Constitutional? I know it's in there, somewhere. I mean, yeah, okay, so they're lawyers and they think they know things that I don't...but I'm PRESIDENT! I get to do whatever I want! I can do as much cocaine as I want, and I can steal as much as I want, and I can bluff seniors into buying this Medicare Plan D, and I can put money in my pocket and in my friends' pockets, and it's all because I'm PRESIDENT!! Oooo, look, Laura brought me some Velveeta cheese. I love Velveeta cheese! Chew slowly...don't choke...And what's with this crap about my good buddy Alito? The man is God's right arm--along with Robertson and DeLay and Cheney and Daddy and Me. We are like the Knights of the Oval Table. Whatever...I hate women who talk too much. They're always crying about their rights and 'Keep your laws off my body' and then they start talking about the poor...what does 'poor' mean? Hey! I am so glad about New Orleans, secretly. It smelled bad. It was filled with those poor blacks; I bet they smelled bad, too. Most black people smell funny. Even Condie. But maybe that's because she's a chick? No, Laura doesn't smell like that. Laura smells like Clorox. My daughters smell pretty crummy, though, come to think of it. You know, I haven't seen Dicky lately. Wonder if he's still alive? Whatever. I'm sure he's coming up with a plan to keep me safe from these threats of impeaching. Im-peach-ing. MMm. I like peaches. Hey, they can't kick me out of this place! Congress are too scared of me! Those silly little representatives and senators, thinking they can kick me out? I don't think so. My money runs pretty deeply through THOSE viens, too. I'm going to name a planet after myself..."

Part of Zen Meditation is not permitting your emotions to impede your progress into your inner self. I haven't quite got the hang of this. I lost transmission when I started envisioning Bush getting hit by a train. Then, I got worried that FISA had somehow wiretapped my brain. I snapped back to reality.

This whole conversation reminded me of a conversation I had with my parents when I was seven. We were sitting at the dinner table. I was pouring ketchup on meatloaf.
"Good girl! Eating your vegetables!" Dad said.
"What?" I said.
"Reagan says ketchup is a vegetable!"
"That's stupid," I said.
"Yes, you're right." Dad said.
"Dad? Why are we afraid of the USSR?" I asked.
"We're NOT afraid of the USSR. The PRESIDENT is afraid of the USSR."
"Oh. Why?"
"It's different in the USSR. Say you tell a friend that you don't like the mayor of your town. Well, your friend could tell her Mom, and then her Mom could tell the police, and the police could tell the Mayor, and the Mayor could have you arrested."
"Eww. You mean I can't have opinions in the USSR?"
"No, it means you can only have the RIGHT opinions," lectured Dad as he fought with some peas.
"How can an opinion be right or wrong?" I asked.
"Some opinions lead to problems for others. If too many people didn't like the mayor, he couldn't arrest them all. They could kick him out of the town. That's scary. So, the USSR makes sure people know what kind of opinions they can have."
"Yuck," I said.
Mom chirped in, "That's why, honey, no matter how terrible this country CAN be, we must always be grateful. We can have opinions. No one can take away our rights to opinions. That's what is beautiful about the USA."

I look back and see how lucky I was to have two parents so concerned with the world they took the time to educate me on these matters. It makes me sad to think this knowledge is archaic. We can't have opinions, anymore. At least, we can't have the wrong opinions. Because God only knows where that might put the current administration. And the current administration is showing such disdain for us, The People, that they would spy on us, and threaten us, and cut our medical care, and take away our rights, and expect us to believe their lies. We are in a great state of need, People. We must be prepared to fight back with words and intelligence. I fear that if we do not fight back in this manner, our children will have to fight back with more than words.

Do your part: contact your congressman through e-mail. Demand an investigation into Bush; DEMAND IMPEACHMENT.