Down the hill from mighty Castle Frostbite is the main hamlet of the Duchy of Upper Cryogenica. I went down there today to take my lunch in their little village tavern because I was nursing a mighty craving for a bowl of French onion soup.
Apparently this was where all the villagers took their lunch, too, for the place was packed full at 1:30, yet not so full that I couldn't get a corner booth in which to curl up with my reading material (Thomas Sowell's The Vision of the Anointed).
I couldn't help but overhear the gentleman in the next booth describe to the manager how his uncle had been born 'way back in nineteen and aught nine in the house that was located on the very spot where this tavern now stood, how his great uncle had attended high school across the street every day after driving the family cow to pasture up the road, and how his family had dwelt in the village of Upper Cryogenica since 1760. It was a glimpse into a universe very different from the rootless one in which I dwell...
Anyhow, over the bar was a television, muted so that the soft rock radio station could be heard, with its Police and its Beatles. And on this television was President Barack Obama, apparently mouthing a speech about the events of last night, the night upon which his jackass party was beaten like the proverbial rented mule.
Now, the party that has retaken power in Congress may do nothing. At best I fear yesterday's election was a band-aid on a sucking chest wound, and at worst they'll go right back to getting all knotted up in rearranging the "family values" and "law'n'order" deck chairs while the USS Dollar continues to slip beneath the waves... But while I was eating lunch I watched the Brat Prince keep trying to strike his favorite chin-uplifted Mussolini pose, with its haughty "Who farted?" moue of confident disdain, but it wouldn't stick, and his facial expression kept drifting back to one that looked like a man chewing on a cat turd.
Rarely have I felt so warm inside, and yesterday's vote was totally worth it, if for nothing other than seeing that look on the face of "The Won". Sure, it's the politics of schadenfreude, but I'm only human after all.