When Dylan sang this back in the sixties, he came to this conclusion:
Some time ago a crazy dream came to me,
I dreamt I was walkin' into World War Three,
I went to the doctor the very next day
To see what kinda words he could say.
He said it was a bad dream.
I wouldn't worry 'bout it none, though,
They were my own dreams and they're only in my head.
I said, "Hold it, Doc, a World War passed through my brain."
He said, "Nurse, get your pad, this boy's insane,"
He grabbed my arm, I said "Ouch!"
As I landed on the psychiatric couch,
He said, "Tell me about it."
Well, over at the LA Times, Rosa Brooks has come to the same conclusion.
Our Connecticut cowboy of a president has begun to woof again about kicking some ass, and this time Iran is in his bombsites. The New York Times called out the king of all chickenhawk bullies today, but it seems unlikely that anyone has the wherewithal to put a blunt end to the adolescent game of chicken.
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