Looking out upon the roiling waves emanating onto the shore's of N.C.'s Outer Banks, what I'm witnessing is a sure fire 'wrath of god'-style doom storm of proportions equal to that of Marco Rubio.
Which is to say, only slightly potent but not altogether devoid of bite.
This hurricane, Sandy, is due to make landfall in D.C. - but the America of new is prepared. The entire nation is strongly fascinated by this mild hurricane, and sitting on the front lines of the media frenzy's oculus north of Duck, it occurs to me that the great news is thus: All across America, the excitement of a new calamity is proferring an era of exceptional resilience. Something which will be in dire need should the 'storm' in the middle east continue to swell upon American outposts, as it did just today Indonesia. Fortunately, the terrorists who planned to attack our embassy there were duly thwarted... but for how long.
We're one day away from landfall, ten days away from the POTUS election proper, and - apparently - mere months from the ultimate end of civilization.
Let's all have another orange julius...
The storm, at this moment, is convalescing on the OBX in the form of massive swells of Atlantic Oceanic mass rollicking the beachfront. A more dire moment couldn't be dreamt of, unless perhaps a nightmare of Chris Mathews... plump from drink and fine dining, Mr. Mathews falls asleep - tumultuous and of consciences demands. He dreams of the final solution, waves breaching the coastline, a massive terrorist attack, global nuclear war... wakes up startled to find a horse head at his feet.
No, only jesting.
So this just in on the wire -
"We know we're gonna win this."
Surely, should we find ourselves in emergency - there will be no tale left to tell but the grim avarice of Sandy.
*Domestic Democracy United*