Sad

You know, reading the New York Review of Books over breakfast is great. It lets me learn about all kinds of stuff, from Alexander Hamilton to random new fiction.
And sometimes it lets me learn about current events. Politics. Atrocities.
For the third morning in a row, today I read a page from the long article about Abu Ghraib, and I’m starting to think that starting the day by reading about atrocities committed by my own government is not a good idea. For one thing, it makes me feel vaguely depressed the rest of the day. Depressed and disillusioned and revolted by the people my fellow Americans put back in power last month.