Punch drunk...

... before the wine is uncorked:

Sitting in my living room sipping Merlot (our doormat says, "We serve only the finest California wines. Did you bring any?"), Audrey confessed to despising the American mission articulated by George W. Bush. "How arrogant can one man be?" she fumed. "Who do we think we are, trying to impose our system of government on the rest of the world? Why is it our job to end tyranny? That should be up to organizations like NATO and the United Nations."

Unwilling to abet intentional blindness to scenic vistas in the sweet uplands of Reason, but not yet equipped with the State of the Union line about how the United States has "no right, no desire, and no intention to impose our form of government on anyone else," I answered with, "We're the only country with resources enough to tackle big problems, and the United Nations is just a debating society for despots."

Audrey scowled, unconvinced. We refilled our glasses and moved on to speculation about whether the puppy playing at our feet might eventually weigh eighty pounds.

For me, the episode was a failure of rhetorical skill. The contrast between Audrey's view and my own was as vivid as the horse jumping across the wine bottle label with a blocky-looking rider in Picasso perspective on its back. Despite our Latin forebears, neither of us could find veritas in vino, or, for that matter, in "verbo."

Launch your own search for veritos in vino and go read the entire thing.

Then head over to Both Worlds and thank the Burk-meister for "the rich and supple but only moderately tannic and therefore wonderfully drinkable" piece he turned us on to.

Heh.

Comments

[Jeff H]

What's with the "heh" lately? Is everybody trying to be the InstaDude?