Rummy
I love Donald Rumsfeld. I love the distain with which Rummy greets each and every questions he's ever asked, as if each question sets a new gold standard for blithering idiocy. Rummy knows he's smarter than you and he'll be damned if he's going to waste his time proving i; accept it and move on. Additionally, Rummy taps into something central to my view of national governance: I like my Presidents a little crazy and my Secretaries of Defense palpably menacing. Not crazy, but crazy enough. Old Man Gipper? If you were a Ruskie you had to be just a little nervous that this fella might just be crazy enough to do it. Rummy? If he's not palpably menacing, I don't know who is. He'll invade any country he damn well pleases with exactly the same amount of trepidation: none. Rummy's all swagger, and if there's one thing I respect, it's swagger.

Could you get away with naming a son Gaius, or would he spend his childhood being called Gay-us?

H-A-D
In my brother's room hangs a "Have A Day" poster, featuring lots of little smiley faces, each adapted to a particular variation of "Have a _____ day." Because you didn't ask for it, "Have A Day" is not going to become a regular feature of the Secret Base. Today:

Have a mutant day.