Oh, frabjous day! The sun is back after yesterday's cleansing and cooling rains. Both temperature and humidity have plummeted. It is possible to step outside without staggering in oppressive heat. The songbirds are everywhere this morning. Chickadees, sparrows, goldfinches, cardinals in four-part harmony, more or less, with hummingbirds chirping the descant. Late summer blossoms are bobbing in the breeze'"a profusion of multi-colored zinnias, plum-colored asters, showy red-orange Mexican sunflowers. Who needs a cease-fire?
Global warming is a total myth, warring nations are at peace and it has been 11 seconds since anyone accused Ned Lamont of being Osama bin Laden's identical twin, separated at birth.
All right, truth be told, the Israel/Lebanon cease-fire is a marvelous concept. No, really, it is. And the way it has played out so far leads me to wonder what would happen if we implemented something like it right here in the good old U.S. of A.
Let's pretend that tomorrow morning, there will be a multi-lateral cease-fire in America. People on each side of the red-blue divide will set aside their weapons of mass destruction. Loudspeakers, microphones, snarky signs, keyboards, podiums (podia?), cameras, postage meters, robo-callers, print media, radio and TV airwaves and Dick Cheney. All silenced, all dormant.
It is to be expected that in the run-up to the cease-fire deadline, there will be frenetic activity in order to establish beachheads. It will go something like this:
8:00 a.m. The cease-fire document is signed.
8:01 a.m. Dick Cheney gives progressives the bird. He calls for a nation-wide release of millions of doves. He will bury Democrats in the feces of the symbol of peace. Republicans may suffer collateral damage, but sacrifice is necessary.
8:02 a.m. Joe Lieberman whines and weeps.
8:02:01 a.m. Karl Rove wipes Lieberman's nose.
8:03 a.m. Bloggers unite and erect a wall of words.
9:00 a.m. George Bush goes for a bike ride.
9:17 a.m. Dick Cheney shoots down the first dove. The White House will comment on this in December.
10:15 a.m. Ann Coulter begins a nationwide fly-over on a Nimbus 2000, spewing venom. It is the last known bio-warfare before the cease-fire.
10:47 a.m. Bill and Hillary run in circles in their attempt to spin themselves as smiling, neutral partisans.
10:48 a.m. The Swift Boaters say that Bill and Hillary are married. To each other. Stunning.
10:55 a.m. Joe Lieberman whines and weeps.
11:15 a.m. Rove hands Lieberman a hanky.
1:15 p.m. Harry Reid, MoveOn and the DCCC flood e-boxes with last-minute petitions and desperate requests for unity.
1:37 p.m. James Dobson turns the tables, proclaiming dove poop a tool of God-hating, gay-loving, flag-burning liberals.
2:12 p.m. Barbara Boxer chases after Bill and Hillary, reverses direction, and chases after Ned Lamont, suffering whiplash in the process.
2:30 p.m. George Bush goes for a bike ride.
3:20 p.m. Cheney shoots Lieberman in the right cheek.
3:44 p.m. Lieberman swears. Lieberman weeps. Rove tells him to wipe his own nose.
4:15 p.m. Chertoff moves the terror gauge to pink, just for the hell of it.
5:05 p.m. George Will has apoplexy, but writes rationally about the manifestation of his burdensome affliction.
6:00 p.m. FOX News is buried in poop and cannot broadcast. The source of the poop is unclear, though it is believed to be an internal problem.
7:07 p.m. A new Zogby poll indicates that most Americans simply don't give a rip about polls or much of anything else.
8:15 p.m. Al Gore says he is not running for anything.
8:16 p.m. The Swift Boaters say Gore is a cut-and-run, yellow-bellied tree-hugging Commie-pinko alarmist, ummm, guy.
8: 17 p.m. Congressional Republicans say they do not know who George Bush is.
8:20 p.m. George Bush puts on his jammies adorned with the presidential seal and goes to bed.
Midnight The cease-fire begins.
12:00:01 Lieberman asks Rove what he should do.
12:01:00 Rove tells Lieberman to take a number.
And there you have it.