Taking a show of hands here, who's going to belly up to the telly and watch god's (or Cheney's) messenger tell us how it's going here in the republic? In years past I could not, make that COULD NOT, watch the little monkey mangle the language and maul my spirit, but this year I'm tempted. Why? Not sure.
Maybe it's because I got a little frisson of pleasure, albeit tamped down by despair, watching his twitchy 60 Minutes interview in which no "sentence" contained more than three words and he looked full of bad stomach acid and faux bravado. The swagger and sneer has a new look to it, maybe what approval ratings in the toilet will do to a guy. The man appears to be unraveling at a whole new clip and I have a sort of macabre fascination with it. Besides, it's history in the making, even if it's our nation in the unmaking.
Another thing. Won't this be the first year in a few years that the blob Denny Hastert won't be sitting behind him? We'll still have the Cheney god, but won't the other seat be filled by -- Nancy Pelosi?
Here's a deal. Those of you with the stomach for watching it send your post morts to the Clothesline, asap, and we'll hang 'em on the line. Just hit Contact Us, fill in your comments -- and mark it dirty linen or clean so we know whether it needs a wash and a spin, or is ready to be hung out as is. No reasonable load denied.