Tell me this isn't happening.

Tell me we're not in for four more years of ... of ...

Tell me this isn't happening.

Somebody.

PLEASE.

Because if it's true ... then as far as I'm concerned, the America I was born into died today.

ETA: so it's true. All for nothing.

Shoot me now. You'll save the Gestapo the price of the bullet...

Cashing in for the night...

My brother insists on listening to the returns, come hell or high water. Two-thirty in the frelling a.m. and he's still got the TV on and the sound up.

And all I could find to blank it out was my "Aliens" DVD. I can't stand the talking heads any more.

Even took a sleeping pill. Second frelling time in my life I've done that, and it doesn't seem to be helping one jot.

I hear that Ohio's being contested and Iowa still hasn't reported in.

I need something to keep hope alive.

Question

Does anyone know the origin of the term "dining on ashes"?

I know, I know, Star Trek Six, but it felt like it came from somewhere long ago...

Burnout

I went to the bank to deposit my very meager paycheck from last week.

The banker gave me my copy of the deposit slip and said "Have a nice day."

"Ask me again in 2009," I responded bitterly, and then realized with horror what I'd done. I apologized profusely.

I came home.

"It's over," my brother announced.

So does anyone know where one can buy a good quality "Impeach Bush" bumper sticker?

Calmer now

When I spoke of my family breaking up, I was speaking of my brother's oft-expressed intention to leave the country if ... if, well, what has happened, happened.

My folks may or may not decide to retire overseas.

I, however, am staying and fighting. Common sense still has to be worth something in this nation, and from what I gather, there's over fifty million people who agree with me.

Even Hitler never managed to kill off that many.

So, I go on. I look for work, and I think I'll sign up for MoveOn - something I was leery to do, as an official campaign worker, because of the rules preventing cooperation.

Maybe I'll find a job. Maybe not.

Maybe things will improve. Or maybe some day, there'll be a message on this LJ, and in friends' e-mail boxes and on their cell phones, saying "send word, send word, send word," to let the outside world know that, as Niemoller feared, they have come for me and it's time to speak up.

Maybe this nation will come to its senses before it's too late.

Or maybe it'll take a catastrophe, and then it'll take all of us working together to salvage the ruins.

This morning, I felt dead - or as though I'd be better off dead - but it's passed. Alive again, if drained and despondent.

With apologies to T.S. Eliot:

"I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all..."

Consider this a GIP

Just for the sake of my sanity. Crude, I know.