Slap! Smack! Smash! HYSTERIA!!!

In my short tale from February of this year, about an imaginary, finally peaceful future -- and the "peaceful" part of that would have to be fantasy, wouldn't it, since the Democrats and Republicans agree on every matter of significance in foreign policy -- I wrote:

Perhaps they will recount the tale many years from now. Perhaps an old man or woman will tell the grandchildren the story once more, as they try to speed the descent of peaceful rest. It's one of the children's favorite stories.

Decades earlier, the two major political parties in the United States had torn themselves apart in what turned out to be the last presidential campaign. ...

The struggle for the other party's nomination went on for months. There were fights about technicalities, about which rules should be followed and which should be disregarded or revised; supporters of the two major candidates traded criticisms, smears and finally vicious rumors. When the party's nominee was finally selected, everyone was disgusted. Everyone agreed that the nomination wasn't worth a damn. Many people threatened not to vote for president at all.

Behold the rapidly fraying connection to what we amusingly call reality of one of those who now supports the "other party's" nominee:

[Palin] has become so polarizing a figure that she's now a threat. The radical right is so excited that it might get a chance to direct the pick of our next Supreme Court justices, it cannot contain its glee. The rest of the country is terrified (except for a small number of women who think the race should still be about Hillary and sexism.)

Pow! Zap! TERRIFIED!!!! The whole rest of the country!!! Zounds!!! Well, except for some of those women ... those little ladies are such an annoyance.

Yes, I do shape the future! You should hope so. Be sure to take a stroll through the comments. The wheels aren't just off. The wheels are smashed into microscopic pieces, and blood obscures the scene almost completely.

This is going on all over Democratistan. Read the comments there, too.

I am so loving this. I'm a terrible person.

Or am I? I shape the future, you decide. That is, I permit you to think you decide. It's a game I play, but the ruling class does it for real. And almost no one understands that. Too. Much. Fun. Look, if I don't laugh, I'll slit my throat. And you wouldn't want that, would you? You'd better not answer. I might get upset.

Remember: I don't vote for war criminals. So all these Democratic operatives/bloggers/commenters/whatevers can tear themselves and each other to bits for all I care. Also remember that I've written a huge number of essays detailing the crimes and loathsomeness of the Bush gang and Republicans in general. At the moment, the Democrats are much more fun.

Chickens. Home. Roost. Lipstick should fit in there somewhere...

I shall have a leisurely dinner and several drinks. Listen to some opera. And later on, take a walk on the wild side and see where the hysteria has struck next.

Charade elections in a dead, thoroughly corrupt, genocidally violent republic shouldn't provide so much entertainment. It doesn't seem right, or even decent. But there you are. Here I am. Nice to meet you.

Want a drink?

P.S. My story has a happy ending. You should consider making me omnipotent ruler. Even if it were possible, I'd turn it down, of course. But you should still consider it.