Today I was thinking everyone should just shut the fuck up. Hold your breath. Plug your nose. Whatever you gotta do, just shut the fuck up.

Just wait for it, because it’s coming.

I’d submerged myself in volcanic mud with a straw to breath through and and an IV for gin and Cheez Whiz until sometime near the end of the week. Sharp cheddar, bacon and Bombay Sapphire varieties. I figured, if it’s not over by then, I’ll take a belt sander to my sack o’ testes.

I think it’s time for me to emerge from my bath.

Something definitive this way comes. Regardless of the Pantsuit’s speech tonight, pregnant with hubris, she’s done and she knows it. It’s over. The proverbial voluptuous diva has busted forth with a lyricism not at all lugubrious. Her song is replete with optimism and triumph. The melody is gorgeous and memorable.

Meanwhile, regrettably, Big Bad Bill went off again yesterday. He called Vanity Fair contributor Todd Purdum a “scumbag” and “Slimy”. Bill needs a vacation. He gives me pause when I picture him has co-assistant manager. His presence could and probably would disrupt the symmetry of an Obama Oval Office, the balance of which will already be historically precarious. He consistently gives me pause.

The epitome of the alpha male. Exactly why he was such a goddamn good President as well as the quintessential hot mess. I’m not sure the elixer that is Bill Clinton would be an appropriate mixer in the cocktail of an Obama Presidency. What was once a tasty ingredient may have spoiled into something ruinously bitter.

On paper, he’d be Second Lady. I suspect his johnson might just be too long and wide for that gig. Imagine a future press conference when the cameras keep pulling back for a glimpse of his tremendous appendage at our expense. See what I’m saying?

He’s more than a little reckless. Likely to beat up the softball coach or a visiting dignitary.

The Pantsuit is more than a little pell mell her ownself. Actually, she’s a whackjob too. She’s formidable, but unpredictable under pressure. She tends to turn into a snapping turtle. I used to adore the Clintons. I still like Chelsea. She’s kinda hot. I’d like to have a talk with her about her eye makeup though.

Whatever.

I’m chomping at the bit to get on with the slicing and dicing of Doubtfire. Such an easy target. Doddering. Not cognizant. Out of touch. Unaware there’s a difference between Shi’a and Sunni. Not aware of current US troop levels in Iraq. Not aware of the difference between Iraq and Iran. Unable to comb his own hair. The document dump on his health history for the last decade was something like twelve hundred pages.

His speech tonight was creepy. He’s begun to pimp the idea of change like he’s owned it all along. Please! Creepy. A relatively diminutive gathering when compared to the stadium full of fired up Obama supporters. His tag line was “That’s not change we can believe in.” and a sinister chuckle that made me think of a pedophile. Jeffrey Toobin from CNN, when answering an unrelated question, said it was the worst speech he’d ever seen. We likes us some Toobin.

Doubtfire possesses not a quarter of the charisma of our next President.

Think he wears those garter things that hold your socks up? I’ll take that bet.

Not to put too fine a point on it but, this guy has been dead wrong about everything for at least a decade and he’s a loser. No shit.

Perhaps he was once a maverick. I used to think so. Now I don’t care. What matters is now. As of now, he is misguided, misinformed, clumsy. Regardless of what he once was, he’s now shell of it. If disgruntled Hillary supporters are willing to stand behind this Republican manequin, I certainly won’t lament their noses despite their bleeding faces. They will be few and they will be stupid.

Fools.

America first began to throw herself away in ’63 when JFK was felled by a conspiracy, as opposed to a single man’s bullet. Any and all hope was shattered in ’68 when Bobby Kennedy and MLK collided with the bigotry and evil brought by the same despicable faces. The absurdity of Vietnam broke us further. America has stumbled, faltered and atrophied ever since.

Today I am proud. More proud than I’ve ever been in my forty three years. Michelle Obama was derided for a similiar sentiment. I feel ya sweety. You go. I understand. Completely. I am proud. I am goddamn beaming.

The cultural, sociological and political significance of this day is of an altitude Americans will ever be likely to witness. We have an African American running for leader of the free world. A black man will be President. The arc of his message is sincere, sane, righteous and just. We are fortunate. We are blessed.

He is, for once, the best of us.

What we have had the enormous fortune to witness over the last year and a half is beyond important. It is above monumental. It is hope like I have never seen.

We watched and participated in a man, an idea, that began as impossible. The idea and the man began to be possible. Before we knew it, the man and his ideas had become probable. As of today, I believe they are inevitable.

I will support this man Barack Hussein Obama. I will write about him. I will actively campaign for him. I will do everything I can to help realize the promise he makes. America is fortunate today. It is a very good day.

There is a chance. As of today. That America is coming of age.

From sea, to shining sea.

Drinks for my friends.

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