Action is consolatory. It is the enemy of thought and the friend of flattering illusions.
Joseph Conrad

Flu is a terrible, terrible thing. Been lying in bed for the past 48 hours sweating and feeling sorry for myself. I'm not even enjoying the coffee. As I add up the tragedies I'm forced to take stock. The bunker is not a warm comfortable place to be, its a safe place. I'm reminded of the name of Superman's home, "The Fortress of Solitude".

I'm finding solace in escapism the past few days. Detaching myself from reality, reading the classics of science fiction. I've just finished reading Heinlein's "starship troopers" which I don't think I've read since my pre teen years.

This is a tough time of year for your correspondent. The weather is oppressive, an annoying holiday is on the horizon. Illness is around every corner, and my slippers are much to small for my feet.

The magic box is casting strange shadows, almost, almost filled with hope that the days of lying about the middle east are over, and perhaps the western world will confront honestly the reasons why so many people are willing to kill themselves in order to hurt the west.