Debate.

Today at work, I watched in horror as one of my co-workers spoke about S. Palin's VP debate as if he were talking about a girlfriend's opening night performance in their high school's production of The Crucible.

I say The Crucible, only because I went to see my sister in a high school performance of The Crucible once, but it is appropriate in more weird ways than I feel like talking about.

Suffice it to say, I was dismayed...

She started out a little nervous, you could hear her voice quavering, but she pulled it off in the end.

Oh. Triumph.

Jesus christ. We are some fucking stupid people. Does it matter if she has any qualifications or seeming capability to be one heart attack away from the presidency?

Making it all the more surreal and brainstem severingly painful was the fact that I am almost certain this young man, my co-worker, is gay.

My world is gone. I give up. Fuck you all. And don't come whining to me when you finally fucking realize Arthur Miller was onto something.

Love,
Me.