As the great wheel turns, and the gloaming fades into the summer night, I place my hands once more on the monitor. Once more, the distance between us dissolves, and I am overwhelmed by your insistent voices. Oh yes, I sense you out there in the dark American night, and yes, I still have my suspicions about you.
- I suspect many members of the Kos Communtiy reguarly dream about Barack Obama. I suspect they dream that they and the Senator are best friends forever. I suspect sincere advocates of progressive orthodoxy (cranky purity freaks) on Kos dream about Dennis Kucinich, Russ Feingold, John Conyers, or the very dreamy Henry Waxman. I suspect stealthy libertarians on Daily Kos dream about Ayn Rand (but not Bob Barr). I suspect some Kos people have a recurring nightmare in which they are being pursued through knee-deep goo by Harold Ickes (or--alternately--Ayn Rand leading the entire faculty of the University of Chicago Economics Department, circa 1955).
- I suspect Ceiling Cat is on the Department of Homeland Security No Fly List.
- I suspect many boomers here at Kos cannot believe they haven't really got a horse in the race. The young guy's only technically a boomer, and the old guy...well, suffice it to say, I suspect no boomer believes they'll ever really be (and certainly never look) that old. I suspect many boomers believe they deserve more than the two Presidents they've gotten, and that they deeply resent the current President's membership in their otherwise groovy generation.
- I suspect that Daily Kos occasionally reflects a heady admixture of crowd madness, the cult of personality, and American celebrity culture. Indeed, I suspect it would require flying squads of psycho-sociologists to unpack the coherence of impulses that instantly vaults every utterance from our own small galaxy of in-house stars to the Recommended List. I suspect the madness of the crowd belches and roars into smokin' uber-fawning when "real" celebrities are involved. Recently spotted in the comment thread of a diary (rec listed!) promoting Rachel Maddow's consideration for her own show on the snarling feral airwaves of MSNBC: "Maddow and Olbermann have brains that run...like supercharged, well-oiled machines (or, perhaps, highly efficient solar-powered Swiss time-pieces . . . with retrorockets)." Here's an early gift giving tip for that "hard to please" person on your holiday obligation list: Highly efficient solar-powered Swiss time-pieces with retrorockets available this fall at The Sharper (Hey! We're in Bankruptcy Reorganization!) Image nearest you.
- I suspect every last member of the Kos community is filled with a bedazzling sense of child-like wonder whenever they spot a still intact Bush/Cheney bumper sticker.
- I suspect if Jesus his own self was a diarist on Kos calling for love, compassion, and tolerance of our political opponents (Kos translation of political opponent: sworn blood enemies, not only on this plane of human suffering, but into the life everlasting), he would be denounced by some as a trollish tool of our Fascistic, Oligarchic, Fordist, Plutocratic, and Non-Vegan Overlords. I suspect his tip jar would be HR'd straight to Purgatory. (Of course, just Purgatory. Redemption is always possible, eh Markos?)
- I suspect the cable news marketing term "instant analysis" is oxymoronic gibberish. (I suspect "instant analysis" is a dangerous dark art akin to the kind of malevolent magic that made the Hannah Montana franchise worth a billion dollars.) I suspect Michael Smerconish's best insights on Race to the White House with David Gregory (genre: Commentariat at Play; sub-genre: Night of the Living Dead Conventional Wisdom Zombies) are "inspired" by Daily Kos diaries and comments. I suspect none of you will ever see a royalty check.
- I suspect some Daily Kos diarists believe Wikipedia is a reliable post-millenial version of a university research library holding millions of pre-digital (irrelevant) volumes. I suspect that many Daily Kos people believe that if you can't link to it, it doesn't exist. I suspect some Kos diarists believe they can fob off a long string of links, YouTube embeds, and blockquotes, as elegant synthesis and trenchant analysis. (Hey, it worked for that term paper.)
- I suspect that all right thinking members of the Kos community grok the edku.
- I suspect some twitchy and overwrought Kos regulars--all hopped up on go juice, corn syrup, and boot-legged Romilar--will come, in time, to view Comcast's decision to drop MSNBC from its basic cable lineup as a blessing in disguise. I suspect members of the Kos Community who find MSNBC no longer delivers the rush of blind fury they crave, would be well served to switch to CNBC and sample its endless stream of Chicago School huslers, privatization goons, globalization buccaneers, technology vampires, resource thugs (oil maggots, eh edscan?), deregulation weasals, moral hazard delinquents, and all-around free-market jagoffs. I suspect Larry Kudlow can evoke the kind of white hot rage you once thought only Andrea Mitchell could deliver.
- I suspect some Kos people would be delighted to temporaily suspend their principled opposition to extraordinary rendition if the "subject" to be "rendered" was Dick Cheney. I suspect many in the Kos community have a very special place for Dick in mind. I suspect my choice would be in an outgassing FEMA trailer parked on the hard-baked playa in the dead center of a never-ending Burning Man event.
- I suspect Economic End of Days diaries that discuss the hoarding of precious metals and huge caches of drinking water and protein pills (ex: "should I store my 50 lbs. of Fritos in a plastic or metal trash can?) are a welcome opportunity to meet new friends in the survivalist branch of the Kos community. I suspect the comment threads on these diaries often wander off topic to discuss the many delightful charms of the Flat Tax or the National Sales Tax. I suspect the comments on these diaries are often edgy rewrites of Whitman's Song for Myself (ex: "Everyone needs a gun. There are lots of nuts running around with knives we may need to protect ourselves from.").
- I suspect Arianna Huffington has a sock puppet at Kos under the user name Yanni Rocks 4Ever!.
- I suspect the Teutonic grammarians on Kos will be troubled by my many lazy habits. I suspect these concerned purists will be agitated by the repeated absence of the word "that" following almost every dreary repitition of the words "I suspect." (Phrase or word repitition being an annoying affectation in its own right.) I suspect they reject the practice of "common usage." Additionally, I suspect these Prussian scolds believe my indiscriminate--and inappropriate--use of dashes betrays a second-rate intellect with a third-rate education from some crummy little "safety" school just off the access road and about a quarter-mile past the refinery. (Hey, it worked for Monica Goodling.)
- I suspect you will think this diary has no redeeming value and that that the diarist has fallen into a dark, barren, and loveless pit of resentment, bitterness, despair, and undiluted bile. I suspect this diary will be pushed down and away into much deserved obscurity by a "What Are You Drinking Tonight?" diary. Me? Tonight I'm still drinking the bitter alkaline waters that flow from nearly eight years of George Bush and everything he represents.