-The Greatest Minority-
Tired, poor huddled masses of weepy democrats commiserate in the basement, saying words like "shock," "disbelief" and "Canada" always in reference to themselves, even though they have come together with likeminded people who campaigned with them specifically to share their shock, disbelief and relocation strategies. They're so close to each other. In sevens and eights on the couches, the carpet, the cold tile floor. All alone in their own minds.
Since the floor is reclining room only, the only available space for a host like myself is the window's alcove. Up there, my body is bent double in a way that won't be comfortable for long.
For now it is acceptable; a cold window seat, but effective for independent observation. From this vantage I wonder how much longer I should let my ward mope. After all, we won within our own borders, won our battleground state. Is it our fault we aren't Ohio?
I know, I know. I should give them this time to grieve, scream and even screw, if that's what it takes. But I can't let them go completely to pieces, there is so much left to do, so many ideologically driven dragons to slay.
They're still gnashing their teeth and I'm still fretting when the cellar doors fly open to accommodate a psychotic in a cocktail dress. She doesn't say anything, just grins that 20 watt smile we've come to fear, and plants a measured kick into the testicles of the nearest pamphleteer.
Peaceable liberals all, they scurry back as one, except for the chair of the local
toastmasters. "Dearie-" She goes down under a right cross. I'm looking for a place to land, but it's too late.
"Listen up, Left behinds! You let them run away with this election when you let them co-op god, and fear. That's why I'm here to bring both of them back. I will be your god, and you will fear me. It follows that they will, too."
Tired, poor huddled masses of weepy democrats commiserate in the basement, saying words like "shock," "disbelief" and "Canada" always in reference to themselves, even though they have come together with likeminded people who campaigned with them specifically to share their shock, disbelief and relocation strategies. They're so close to each other. In sevens and eights on the couches, the carpet, the cold tile floor. All alone in their own minds.
Since the floor is reclining room only, the only available space for a host like myself is the window's alcove. Up there, my body is bent double in a way that won't be comfortable for long.
For now it is acceptable; a cold window seat, but effective for independent observation. From this vantage I wonder how much longer I should let my ward mope. After all, we won within our own borders, won our battleground state. Is it our fault we aren't Ohio?
I know, I know. I should give them this time to grieve, scream and even screw, if that's what it takes. But I can't let them go completely to pieces, there is so much left to do, so many ideologically driven dragons to slay.
They're still gnashing their teeth and I'm still fretting when the cellar doors fly open to accommodate a psychotic in a cocktail dress. She doesn't say anything, just grins that 20 watt smile we've come to fear, and plants a measured kick into the testicles of the nearest pamphleteer.
Peaceable liberals all, they scurry back as one, except for the chair of the local
toastmasters. "Dearie-" She goes down under a right cross. I'm looking for a place to land, but it's too late.
"Listen up, Left behinds! You let them run away with this election when you let them co-op god, and fear. That's why I'm here to bring both of them back. I will be your god, and you will fear me. It follows that they will, too."
posted by Benedict | 11:34 PM
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