I’m in a foul mood today from lack of sleep and surplus of soot. It’s just the right attitude to cap off this kidney stone of an election. I don’t know how many robocalls we’ll get today or how much extra campaign junk we’ll find on our doorstep, but I just want it all to end. I want the political consultants to get irritable bowel, I want the candidates to get consciences (and then give all of their money to the poor and go do something useful, like rebuild New Orleans), and I want the Edward Thomas Management Company to go bankrupt and have to sell Casa del Mar and Shutters to the city, who will then turn them into emergency shelters for battered women. Or penguins. Whatever.

I really want to be hopeful that there will be a Democratic majority in Congress, and that it will also have the spine to fire up the investigative committees and start showing just how poorly the Bush Administration has run, well, everything. I’m not holding my breath, though, about the victory or the subpoenas, just ’cause it’s going to be a long slog of counts and recounts and Brooks Brothers riots. It will be an ugly, ugly November (and maybe December).

But at least the phone calls will stop. The campaign junk mail will stop. And, God willing, the penguins will have a place to call home.