…to wit, you start with a full bottle of vodka, a blank computer screen, and your pain. You then start filling up the computer screen with words, with an eye towards seeing which runs out first: the pain, or the vodka. In Jen Rubin’s case, I’m guessing that it was the pain, but not by much.
Sorry if this seems dismissive: it’s just that we go through this every. Four. Years. Win or lose, it’s always the most awful Republican field since the dawn of time; the earth will crack and the flames of Perdition will wash across our candidates; and the very fabric of space-time itself will reconfigure into a portal from which the Dread Lord Azathoth will summon us all t0 be sanity-shattered servitors piping daemonic music for his court for all eternity.
And it could always have been avoided, if we had just convinced [INSERT NAME HERE] to run.
Yadda. Yadda. And I say, again: yadda.
PS: Almost forgot! “But it’s DIFFERENT this time!”