Well, here it is, America. The results are in. You had a choice, and you endorsed incompetence, gross negligence, indignity, unaccountability, failure, corruption, dishonesty, and arrogance. You did, however, save us from the horrors of gay marriage (as if denying someone a right that you take for granted is going to stop men from kissing each other).

Times like this, I'm sorry that I had hope. I regret feeling that there was a glimmer of a chance that I would get to be the gracious winner this time. I am angry at my own raised expectations.

I willed myself to believe that things would turn out in my favor during this election. This morning, I pulled myself into the office to face my tormentors co-workers.

"You don't change commanders in the middle of a fuckin' war, Andy. We needed to save those Iraqis from Saddam," I was told.

"Oh, ___, that's disingenuous. Mass murder and genocide happens all over this globe and there's no uniform moral imperative to get involved."

(Yeah, like you give a shit about Iraqis. Explain to me how we're saving them from Saddam's chemical weapons again? Would that be because we're killing them first?)

Ever since, there's been a constant hammering yowl pinging around my skull:

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUU???"

Ian MacKaye, screaming the introduction to Minor Threat's "Filler." I don't know where it came from, but it won't leave.

YOU CALL IT RELIGION! YOU'RE FULL OF SHIT!

Y'know, I think I'm going to get some mileage out of this anger/defiance/cynicism for a while. I was just saying last night to a friend of mine that situations like this make me want to quit my job, buy a case of cheap whiskey, and to start up a Pogues cover band, or something of the like.

Maybe I should make good on that.