The Black Republican

Allah Is In The House and he's talkin' baseball. Well, okay, he's Photoshopping baseball, but it's pretty much the same thing with him. In any event, the 'shop is good, but I think it belies an underlying Truth.

John Kerry has fought valiantly in his attempt to confuse the American public. He has dodged several major problems with his campaign, and used an entire war against the President to more effect than I would have given him credit for one year ago.

But now it's over. Or as they say in Paris: Fini.

I said last week that Bush would take the election 52-44-4, mainly because I was convinced some state in the Blue Belt would dramatically fall Bush's way, completely eliminating John Kerry's ability to win the Electoral College. The loss of that must-have Gore-2000 state would demoralize any Democrat who had not yet voted in the West and anything Democratic on the other side of the Mississippi would fall like a house of cards. A few will defect to Nader in protest, the rest simply won't show up after it's called. I thought perhaps the tipping point would be Pennsylvania, and I dreamed it might just be my beloved New Jersey. Now New Jersey is a lock for Bush, and New York is seriously in danger.

"Are you out of your friggin' MIND?!"

No - I'm a New Yorker by birth, a New Jersian by upbringing, and a reluctant Floridian by divorce, and I'm homesick for Asbury Park funnel cake and greasy pizza from Brooklyn Italians. And I know my home states.

Tonight, the Boston Red Sox defeated John Kerry in seven games by injecting a renewed dose of enmity into Bronx Bombers throughout the New York metropolitan area. Yankee fans pray at a temple in the Bronx at least 162 times a year (usually, more often), and with a fervor never seen inside the Paulist Center of Boston. For them, politics and war pale in importance to the lineup and the pitching rotation. The economy is measured by how big Steinbrenner's wallet is this year, and how much a hot dog and a beer cost at The House. When the Bombers don't break 100 W's, there are more tears than around an Arlington funeral cortege.

Tonight, there's shock. Tomorrow, there'll be hangovers. And after next week, after they are forced to hear the words "Boston Red Sox" and "World Series" in the same sentence over and over again for five to nine days straight, they're going to be looking for someone's blood. They're going to look for blood from anyone wearing a a pair of sox on his chest, and they're not going to worry about details, like if he's a presidential candidate or what party he's from. And two Tuesdays from now, they're going to see this guy:

and they're going to do whatever it takes to hurt him, and his family, his neighborhood, and his friends. And when they've done all that, they're going to piss all over what's left.

And the result will be FOUR MORE YEARS of W's.