Sarko! My love!

Have I not yet expressed my love for Nicolas Sarkozy? I mean, he has it all--he's powerful, he's French, he's not quite tall, nor handsome, but he may be considered dark... I'm not so sure. In any case, he seems to be working hard to pull France out of its 300 year slump and give the French a legitimate reason to be proud of their nationality.

He's got it all. He's even in town for a few days, and he's single. What more could I want? Shouldn't I just call him or something? Sarko--do you want to get a drink with me at Madam's Organ and hear some good ol' DC rock? Why now? We can talk about the evils of corporate taxes, of social security, of free riders and moochers. We can talk about the law, we can talk about culture. JFK? I saw you at the opera in July, in Orange. They were playing Il Trovatore by Verdi.

And then, when the wine (or bourbon, your choice) starts to dance its ways through your sense, we can speak of other things, like power, and how to wield it. The individual, and how to value her. Money, and how to earn it.

I have much faith in you, Monsieur le Président. Much faith, and much optimism.