Baiting My Hook for Leviathan

I leave now for City Hall.

My loins are girded, whatever that means.  I've baited my hook for Leviathan.  Somebody asked me last night if I was anxious about this meeting.  "When one goes into the woods to hunt the bear," I replied, "You're a fool if you don't feel anxious.  You also feel a certain exhilaration as well.  But mostly what you feel is the taste in your mouth of the blood of the last bear."

I am an army of one.