9.
   His expression warmed. He offered me a winning smile. “What the hell are you going to do about it anyway? Everyone is pissing and moaning but nothing is being done. Why don’t you take the night off and relax? Try that new place, Le Soleil. There are bars, cabarets, galleries, shops all under one roof on the fifth floor. Lose yourself in the crowd. Fill your mind with the nothing of now.”

   I decided to take his advice. As I dressed in front of my mirror, I studied the carved sea creatures swimming around the frame. They were looking back at me that night as though they wanted to tell me something, warn me about something. I brooded over Birdie’s words. Insane evil I could understand. Insanity cancels morality. Smarmy evil works. Smarmy people are manipulators. But an evil idiot, that was truly frightening.
   Birdie continued his concerned admonition while perching on my head. “What’s with the recurring nightmares? Are you yearning for the good old Weimar days? Everything was just peachy under Clinton wasn’t it?”, he continued, his voice dry with disgust. “Free Trade, the end of big government as we know it, NAFTA, GATT and the Dotcom bubble, a blow job away from handing Medicare and Social Security over to Wall Street - if ever there was an example of ‘if you can’t beat’ em, join ‘em’, Bill Clinton was it. Tired of those pesky regulations that held Wall Street in check since the Great Depression? Tired of paying those spoiled American workers a living wage? No problem. Bill, your friend in the White House will fix things for you just fine. And you’re worried about Dubya? The rot beneath this canker is bottomless, do you hear? Go out and get drunk and bring me back a bottle!”