Where is the Glee?

I should be happy. The kind of happy you only get from vindication: I was right all along! I knew it!

The Bush II Administration is imploding, much like the island of Krakatoa after four consecutive eruptions blew the island apart in a deluge of ash, pumice, and fiery lava rocks.

While Administration majordomos stand around, pointing fingers and laying blame, a colossal tsunami gathers force behind them.

This is where my happy dance ends. You see, if there's one thing we Americans love, it's an Underdog. And when an American, no matter how loathsome, is put in that situation, we tend to rally to their cause. We don't want Mr. Loathsome washed away in a tsunami, we want him to go away quietly, never to be heard from again. So he'll be snatched from the beach and carried to higher ground, because that's what we do.

For example: Charles Manson is still alive in a California prison, giving interviews and inspiring future generations of serial killers. Because the death penalty is "wrong".

There are two long years left for the Bush Administration. If the election was this year, the Democrats could run an orangutan for President and win. Instead, two years of Bush II acting tough, but contrite, and declaring his White House newly sparkly clean and free of the bad people who did him wrong, await. Time enough to groom his probably-loathsome Republican replacement.

Not that I in any way think Hilary has a prayer, mind you. She may believe, as my father insists, she's destined to be the first female U.S. President, but she's wrong. In any case, the next election should be a doozy. There's even talk of running Condoleeza Rice against Hilary! Oy vey.

Disclaimer: I'm neither Republican nor Democrat. I'm just American, with an interest in the hijinks of my elected government. An equal-opportunity wonk.