What's up, Doc?
Could've gone better for us tonight. Could've gone much better. I don't know what went wrong, although I'm sure your guys do. So I'm a little bitter right now.
Look, big guy, I've been supporting you for a long time because you worked miracles out there on the campaign trail. Seven and a half million dollars, then fifteen million, then more than fifteen million -- and you went from nought to juggernaut in the space of a year. You worked a lot of miracles, but tonight, when miracle time came around, the miracle didn't. First big test, and you flunked it.
But that's ok. You said it yourself: on to New Hampshire. You've got one more chance to work one more miracle; it's time to take this race back. You cannot allow the Democratic Party to barf up Wesley Clark or John Kerry on Bush's shoes. We made you, and you owe us.
You spent a year holding a mirror up to the Democratic party. And for all that we were conditioned for twenty-two years to be ashamed of our reflections, we liked what we saw. Well, we're grateful for the mirror, but now it's time to put it down and pick up the torch instead. We are strong, we are invincible, but we're just standing around.
Because, big guy, there's John Edwards over there, surfing a wave of optimism and flashing his megawatt smile. He's learned how to say the things you said, and say them better. It's time for you to put up the reasons why you're a visionary and he's a shameless copycat; or you might find yourself demoted from a bully pulpit in a big hall to a soapbox in a back alley before you realise it.
One chance, Dr. Dean. Make us believe again.
Love and momentum,
One footsoldier in the army.