The passion of Wood

I am zoning out, things look contrasty & pixely when my eyes relax, in that way you are supposed to relax your vision so you can see the hidden pictures in those magic eye books, that drove me crazy, because as soon I relaxed enough to start seeing anything I became aware of my soft focus and in trying to consciously hold on to it, I would lose it. There is a metaphor about relationships in there.

I wanted to talk about my new found respect for Woodrow Wilson, about how I misjudged him, branded him a cold fish, how when I was hot in the summer time I would visualize Wilson to cool off. I thought him a a pious, self righteous, rigid, austere, phlegmatic, iceberg of a man. Boy was I wrong, sure that was his façade, but inside Wilson was a passionate man. Many people would be shocked to learn just how passionate he was about, women, god, the League of Nations. Just a month after his first wife died, he proposed to another woman because he was so damn passionate! She turned him down but that didn’t quench his concupiscent heart.

But that will have to wait for another day for I fear I couldn’t do him justice today. 2 and ½ hours just aint enough sleep, much to my chagrin.