While it is awfully tempting to dip my toe in the schadenfreude here (and maybe roll around naked too), that is not really the way I wish to be perceived. While the Republicans are well known for dancing on the political graves of distinguished Democrats such as Harold Ford, Max Cleland and Paul Wellstone, I just don't see the point of serving it up to them. Many have suggested that the downfall of the Democrats is their lack of willingness to "play nasty" but some ethic regarding the betterment of society as a whole has always been (at least the narrative) what the Democrats are about and I appreciate that (even if it is just rhetoric).
Back to Thursday night: While 99.9999999% of my brain believes that Joe Biden is going to steamroll his opponent, there is .0000001% that is so suspicious of the Republican party that I have this flea of fear hurtling about my skull ruminating on the crap they might pull before Gwen Ifill poses her first question.
Will there be a family emergency that requires the Alaskan governor to fly back to Anchorage at the last minute?
Will Vince Foster come back from the dead at the St. Louis Arch and the media will rush to the scene?
Will Dick Cheney have his 5th (known) heart attack and the news will be conveniently overshadowed?
I could think of far worse things that L'Rove & Co. could come up with but I hate to write them down for fear I might actually get one right.
The point, however, is that barring any of those things happening, you'll know where I'll be. Curled up in a fetal position, blood pressure cuff around my arm and all objects known to cause damage to a flat screen TV relocated to a place out of arm's reach.
*1892, from Yiddish, "beggar," from Ger. slang schnurrer, from schnurren "to go begging" (slang), perhaps ult. imitative of the sound of pleading or whining (e.g. sneer, snorkel, snarl).
In this definition, the act of leaving one's political opponent begging for mercy.