President Bush is getting a lot of flak in the press about the alleged misrepresentations in his 2003 State of the Union address. But I remember not focusing so much on the President's words as on the fact that everybody in the chamber was naked.

The members of Congress, the Supreme Court justices, the President and his cabinet—all of them were as naked as cling peaches.

I don't know how this happened.

I suppose there was something hypnotic about the polite applause that constantly interrupted the President's speech. In my state of half-sleep, everything was laid bare.

I saw feigned good manners. Naked apes with Rolexes, baring their teeth, waiting for their first opportunity to storm the dais and claim power for themselves; Congressional apes cheating on their wives; White House apes making war; effete Supreme Court apes cravenly abetting the most recent usurpers of power.

Our civility is a very delicate garment laid on top of our simian fur. It tears easily. We hide this fact from ourselves by a superstructure of myths that cast us as champions of the rule of law. And these myths are themselves sustained by the most delicate forces. What are they, after all, but small, black marks on a page, tiny displacements of air?

Nothing was hidden the night of the President's speech. All the pomp and all the ritual, all the symbols of power turned out for the occasion could not rescue the charade.

The only thing the circus lacked was a soundtrack, and to this day I haven't figured out what this would be. Is it possible that Man is the animal most unworthy of music?

— John Markovich

A September 11th remembrance

A Franco-American's gloss on the Raelian affair