The bloody carcass of Election 2012 has finally been dragged to rest. Beaten past death by gaffe absurdity and pundit clubs, the brawl for the presidency has reelected Barack Obama as the winner of a contest that one can only describe as “I’m not Mitt Romney.”
Liberals, rejoice: You’ve been granted four more years with your boy in office and a smidgen of rationality. Conservatives, where are you moving? Escaping the continued plight of fictional socialism must be the top tier of the agenda. I suggest flocking over the sea and east. There, you’ll be rudely awakened by an encounter with real socialist realities.
Yet, as I write on Election Night, the Romney supporters have slumped to bed. FOX called the election for Obama before midnight, just as the clock struck and their glass slippers faded away. Dick Ross predicted a landslide for the Governor, now his squeaky voice is silent in the sand. And God knows O’Reilly is crying into Limbaugh’s chin.
The College’s Romney rooters have also gone dark. Raucous STUD conservatives shouted a resounding “no!” and then slinked back to their caves. Facebook is abuzz with sadness and doom, but personal human contact is far too grotesque. Ultimately, the balloon has popped. All except for students scarfing chicken fingers in T-Dubs, whose glazed eyes believe that Leonard Lance just won the presidency.
But set flamboyant sarcasm aside: These results do spell sincere consequences, and faith in the President is far from vanished.
Look at the paintballed electoral map. Conservative turf like Colorado blued. Democratic senators like Elizabeth Warren trounced popular Republicans like Scott Brown. Maine and Maryland are legalizing gay marriage. These changes are not as dynamic as the GOP revolution of 2010, but they point clear, national fingers. Where citizens have been offered Republican politics, they have accepted the Democratic leadership instead.
What can we humbly ask from this election? For four years of unrestrained cry Congress in Washington; for four years of increased freedoms, economic and social, and a diplomacy to brighten foreign affairs; and in my highest hopes, our greatest need, a paradise retreat to sense and sensibility.
No one knows where these four years will tread. Not even I can predict just what we’ll accomplish. But at the very least, you can share in the growing anticipation of watching Sasha and Malia hit the dating scene.