Playing raquetball at the GCC courts with Mike and Michael and Eric. We all felt the war was wrong -- I'd been in a black bloc action only a few days before -- but we were strangely giddy, with a sort of tacit admission that America had been duped and we might as well just sit back and enjoy the ride. We made jokes about the generals holding press conferences while looped out of their minds on acid. Afterwards we had Slurpees.
What I'll probably be doing when we attack Iraq during Gulf War II:
Sitting at my computer, trying to push my way through a particularly difficult and loathesome chapter of my novel. I'll have just finished reading the section of "The Decline and Fall of the Third Reich" where Hitler invades Poland. I feel very odd, like I'm embarking on a great adventure, and a strange sense of imminent doom, the way you feel when you've made a really big mistake and it's too late to do anything about it. I'll probably eat a big salad and go to sleep instead of watching the skies over Baghdad light up green on TV.
I think there must be something wrong with me.