My darling terrible ones, haven't we had a time these four years! From a stunned Election Night — the Champagne sat undrunk in the fridge for years, until I decided some ultimately meaningless James Comey move was a ray of hope — to the hideous inauguration, where at least we could be among our people. From Bannon's shock and awe that very first weekend, shutting down the airports to legal residents, who lived here, to the babies taking care of babies in refrigerated cages. From the gutting of every agency that led directly to an actual pandemic that the rest of the world has managed to manage.

You were right: The rest of the world isn't laughing at us anymore, President Trump.

They pity us instead.


Every time we thought it could not get worse, we looked on with amazement. Who would tell us not to wear masks and to send our children to school when we don't know what this virus will do to their organs over the long term, but someone who is actually trying to kill us? He isn't a narcissist. He's a psychopath.

I think very very bad things will happen between November 4 and January 19. And we will be both surprised and not. But this week ... well. If you are like me, and most of you are, Joe Biden was eighth, maybe tenth, on your list of choices in the primary. A nice old fella but not the woman person who was needed in the moment. And here we are, surprised again.

Joe Biden, Old Handsome Decent Weepy Joe, feels like exactly the person to lead us through. He's an Irishman who can call us to national shiva. He picked a smart, hard woman instead of making his veep choice about his ravening ego. First and foremost, with his guy who stopped ebola from coming here, he can stop the goddamn bleeding.

And that convention! Four years ago, Shy's dad was dying. I didn't watch the RNC, and I doubt I will this time. I have people you pay me to pay to do that. But didn't you love this week's convention? Didn't you love seeing the people watching from their living rooms, waving into their computer screens? Did you cry when Joe and Jill and Kamala and Doug watched the fireworks? No? I wish you weren't a liar.

Does Joe Biden line up with every one of my policy choices? Oh goodness no. But neither does my husband, or even my mom. Sometimes I don't line up with all of my policy choices! We're complicated creatures, us!

And yet I feel better. I can breathe a bit, this week. I can go off into my weekend, with Robyn in charge, and see an end in sight. Might terrible things continue to happen? No, dear ones: They will. They will continue to happen, perhaps into Joe's term. The other side is bad, and wants to hurt us, even if they have to hurt themselves to do so. They are not well people.

But there are more of us. We are legion.

Breathe, jump back, and kiss yourselves.

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Rebecca Schoenkopf

Rebecca Schoenkopf is the owner, publisher, and editrix of Wonkette. She is a nice lady, SHUT UP YUH HUH. She is very tired with this fucking nonsense all of the time, and it would be terrific if you sent money to keep this bitch afloat. She is on maternity leave until 2033.

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