Ennui on an Afternoon*

Good afternoon, Stroock's Books people. When we awoke this morning we popped over to the Times of Israel and see what the Israelis are up to...Nothing yet. Our sources think the longer the Israelis wait to strike, the bigger will be the strike. But who knows, except the imams, who are right. 

A long war growing longer. A wearying war too. Britain about to ban arms exports to Israel. Turkey threatening war. This blog has warned for months that dark days lie ahead. Dark days are here.  Our own sense is that Israel should go to war with Hezbollah and be done with it. [Oh, it's that easy, is it?-Ed]. No, no it isn't. But necessary? Probably. 

Yes, the Olympics are decadent and depraved, and stupid. Half of these sports aren't real sports. They're the kind of almost or not-quite sports that belong on ESPN-8: the Ocho. A good reporter would provide examples, but we just don't care. And there's the tranz desecration of The Last Supper. Outrage abounds. One didn't see the Chinese or Russians mocking there past when they hosted the games. See the difference? Heh, imagine what Putin would do to a bunch of people desecrating Russian history. 

Alright! We finally have a vision for the next chapter in World War 1990: Thatcher's War. A worried IRA central committee, Jerry Adams, the Taoiseach, all watching the telly in disbelief. All wondering, 'Did you know about this?' We go from a friendly police interrogation, info obtained, botched SAS raid on IRA stash-house. Alright! Of course as we write this at -8:52 AM- we've no idea what we're writing today. Update, we wrote today. Not bad. 

Sometimes we hold posts till the afternoon hoping well find something else interesting to say. We did not find something else interesting to say. Whatever. We're off to the gym. 

*[In his head, he pronounces that n-u-i-Ed]