Oh yes, I have my suspicions about you. Tonight, as I place my hands on the monitor, I can feel you out there in the dark American night. I can sense the jostling, competing, anxious voices. I hear your questions: How long before my brilliant insights slide down the page and into obscurity? How can I get on the rec list? Am I neglecting my family, my job, my life, all for the momentary rush of having my comment commented on? Oh yes, I hear you...and I have my suspicions:
- I suspect there is a subset of diarists--"Breaking! Obama has just had orange juice with his breakfast, how will this effect his beverage policy going forward?"--who aspire to work at Reuters.
- I suspect that if Pastor John Hagee went on Dancing with the Stars, we would all have a link to the YouTube page within 45 seconds. I suspect that within 10 minutes there would be 173 diaries discussing Hagee's chances in a theoretical head-to-head dance-off with Tucker Carlson. I suspect that within 15 minutes, multiple diaries featuring photographs of cats dancing with Pastor Hagee would appear. I suspect Ceiling Cat would quickly replace Paula Abdul on the judging panel.
- I suspect Daily Kos is infested with aging boomers who are hiding out. I suspect there are lots of education-types here who claim the hours they spend on Kos as sociological research, but who are actually trying to avoid grading papers while they get down with the kids. I suspect there are lots of boomers here who are modestly successful professionals but are about to lose their minds over the drivel that defines their careers. I suspect there are boomers here who are flat broke and worried. I suspect most boomers do not tell their friends their Kos ID. I suspect these boomers, however, rarely remain anonymous for long as their advocacy of facts, historical accuracy, and basic grammar often betrays them. Here's a tip: if you want to smoke these posers out, post a diary bashing boomers and blaming them for the fucked up world you live in. They'll come to you.
- I suspect "edscan"--Maggots!--is a Marxist performance artist living in Iceland.
- I suspect the comments get nastier on Kos after the sun goes down and the chemicals kick in. I suspect the bile index redlines after polls close on primary days and the favored candidate is dissed by Pat Buchanan or Joe--"why can't Obama close the deal?"--Scarborough. In recent days, of course, redlining also occurs whenever She speaks. I suspect that hapless diarists sometimes get zapped--not really for their heartfelt pleas for party unity, or their open letters to Hillary Clinton--but because surly commenters just had a fight about money with their sweetheart, forgot to pick up the fucking coffee for the morning, can't remember where they hid their stash, or failed to properly program the DVR to record Race for the White House with David Gregory. I suspect many of us are simply enraged because Bush can't hear us screaming at him through the television. I suspect Clinton can't hear the screaming either.
- I suspect thousands of Kos regulars will require heavy sedation in advance of the General Election.
- I suspect many Kos People prefer pie to cake because cake is elitist.
- I suspect there are some diarists on Daily Kos who secretly harbor the fantasy/hope that a brilliant diary will rocket them from their home office (bedroom) directly into the heart of the Obama campaign. In this pleasant daydream, an Obama staffer will spot the diary and will excitedly exclaim to David Axelrod: "we've just got to get this kid to write the Senator's acceptance speech for the convention in August!" I suspect some commenters have a similar fantasy, but in their dream they get a call from John Stewart. Hey, it could happen. I'm certainly counting on it.
- I suspect the term "Progressive Politics" no longer has any real pizazz. I suspect it has as much rhetorical power as claiming the ab-master is "Revolutionary."
- I suspect you'll think this diary has no redeeming qualities.