I'm a conflicted mess today, despite the joyous electoral news, and despite the resignation of our current leading war criminal. On the one hand, I'm giddy: I want to call every conservative I know and gloat. I want to get drunk. I want to wave banners and shout and scream. I want to piss on a burning Bush effigy. I want to hug Dr. Dean for his insistence on a 50-state strategy.
On the other hand, I feel great trepidation. The Iraq war is still going on. Darfur will continue to be ignored. The Rahm Emmanuels of the world want to play nice with the Republicans instead of exposing their misdeeds. The housing market sucks and I want badly to sell and buy. The budget is a wreck and the deficit will require painful decisions that will likely cost the Democrats some of their gains in two years. I recall that for a long time I agitated on behalf of 3rd party options because the Democrats fucking suck.
This is why I gave up intensely following politics over a year ago. The dizzying highs and lows, the hopeful and cynical cycles, the sense that when regarded with an eye cast toward epic stretches of history that nothing in politics ever really changes--all of this is enormously costly to sensitive folk. The toll is spiritual, physical, emotional.
But I had a fucking blast watching the coverage last night. Santorum's surprisingly eloquent concession was a joyous disappointment; I'd waited to see him lose for so long that to see him act gentlemanly instead of like his typically aggressive dickhead self deprived me of much-anticipated schadenfreude. Joe Scarborough attacked Chris Matthews after Chris Matthews attacked Howard Dean and it was awesomely bad TV. When that Virginia nail-biter turned to Webb before midnight last evening I was ecstatic and hooting like the frat boys next door. I enjoyed the maudlin round-table of Fox News ghouls slumping slowly through the evening and pulling out their hair. Seeing Michelle Malkin subdued was a gleeful thing.
But there's so much wrong now that a really right day doesn't dispell the worries. I still may get drunk tonight, however. One must allow the Dionysian release from time to time, and yesterday is a damn good reason. Rumsfeld is another!