After spending most of yesterday licking my wounds, drinking heavily, and staring morbidly at the metro section of the Dispatch, I am now ready, two days after, to put to pen and posterity my thoughts on this dark November and the American way.
The Democratic Party should disband, dissolve. Force its many malcontents and incompetents back into the GOP, where they belong. The great minds, of which there are certainly few, may find refuge from the storm in my backyard. We will drink beer there, and burn alley trash in great bonfires, and newspapers will be used only for kindling, and the puppet skulls still lingering on my fence posts, leftovers from the Day of the Dead celebrations only a few days before, will be the only reminder that our generation is as doomed as that of our mothers’ and fathers’ – and the yard will be the last known smiling place for any Democrat this year.