I was forced to sit through the State of the Union Address by my husband although I figured I would need to be pretty toasted to get through it without stroking out.  So instead I groomed my angoras and plucked more of their molting wool which was enough of a distraction that I felt no need to comment other than sporadically (not only was I forced to watch, I was forbidden to comment until afterward).

If only he were sincere.

If only he, and Congress had followed through with their promises when they all started this journey together.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.   Out, out brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

A tale not told by an idiot, to be sure; but full of sound and fury, definitely signifying nothing.