Watching the GOP flail around and try to figure out why associating BO with a sixties pseudoterrorist that most Americans had forgotten or never heard of until half-past two yesterday afternoon--wasn't he one of the authors of the Port Huron statement, the original, not the watered-down second draft?--is pretty amusing. Reading media observers as they try to tease some plot out of the exquisite corpse of an American electoral season is, also, pretty funny. Christopher Buckley resigned/got booted from the magazine his daddy-doo founded because he endorsed the competent manager over the screaming queen. I mean, is John McCain not the faggiest candidate for President ever? Screaming about all you bitches and he is so sick of your fucking drama you queens so why don't you shut the fuck up or I'll leave your drunk ass right here at the club and you can try to walk home in those heels, girl. Shit, the National Review ought to be supporting Barack, who evinces a more convincing belief in dieu-donné American civilizational messianism than any politician I've seen in my lifetime--certainly more so than John McCain. While McCain is fagging out and promising that he's gonna reveal his secret plan to git bin Laden just as soon as he comes up with one, Obama convincingly promises that no matter what that faggot pussy widower president whatsisname in Islamabad and his pansy-ass government have to say, if he finds OBL, he's gonna kill him dead as fuck. I mean, Obama with his smooth talk and smiles and teflon political persona is the Ronnie Reagan of this fight. If putative conservatives were smart they'd just coopt him and try to keep their seats at the palace table, instead of griping that he's going to ship white people back to Africa as slaves.