My (Not So) Helpless Scream at the Sky

Did you hear that we Resisters had a planned event tonight, on the anniversary of the election? We were supposed to go outside and scream helplessly at the sky.

I was all ready to do this. In fact, I had -- very reluctantly -- issued an invitation to the Bean Sidhe, so as to make a really impressive scream fest.

In the end, though, I canceled the howling, or rather I relegated it to this single miffed boat-tailed grackle:

Screaming all done now. There's too much to celebrate!

I don't care if our New Jersey governor-elect is some pond scum bloodsucker who slunk out of Goldman Sachs to plunder the Garden State. I don't care if the guy keeps three mistresses on his payroll (heck, that's a New Jersey staple!) I don't care if he has bad breath or foot odor. For all I care, he can fart with great regularity in closed elevators.

He is not Chris Christie. We are done with Chris Christie! We are bidding farewell to the Teacher-Hater!

EXHIBIT A: THE CURRENT GOVERNOR OF NEW JERSEY

EXHIBIT B: THE GOVERNOR-ELECT OF NEW JERSEY, A PROUD DEMOCRAT

New Jersey, the state I used to hate, is now firmly in Democratic hands. Oh sure, we have a fistful of Republicans -- and the gods know we have high taxes -- but we don't suffer fools. Or rather, after eight long years of suffering a fool, we're ready to TURN. THE. PAGE.

And so the anniversary of the presidential election finds me cautiously optimistic. I'm not giving up the Magical Battle for America, but let's say that we've won our first skirmish. In New Jersey. Heck, it sorta feels like Washington just crossed the Delaware!