I offer this diary as a tonic for those who might be inclined to celebrate a few days early...who think it is a done deal.
Don't go there.
Imagine that for some reason the polling trends reverse drastically in McCain's favor, that we peaked to soon, that it turns out that the Bradley effect is very strong, that Joe-not-it's-his-name-but-who-cares-he-hates-Obama-just-like-me the not-he's-not-a-plumber-but-I-like-his-lies wins. That...something...goes terribly wrong.
Don't be that person who did not vote, who did not give, who did make a phone call.
In this America, the country's choice when facing dire economic, energy, social and national security crises is to turn on the Other, starting with Barack Obama. The problem is pandemic; when push comes to shove, people fall back on the veneer of similarity rather than substantive community, because that is all that the country knows anymore.
The results are not devastating...just devastating enough.
And affirmed in their extremism, things get nasty right away.
Caution! What follows is fiction. It may disturb. It is intended to, but once you change the screen, take a deep breath and relax.
It's just make-believe. Surely, our brethren on the right are not this bad.
Past Midnight, Wednesday morning, the 5th of November, 2008.
We were all surprised when it was announced that Maine had gone to John McCain. Not just one congressional district...the entire state. It was a close race, but the Mainers chose to go with what they knew: another roll of the dice with the Republicans in the White House. Shortly after, New Hampshire was called for McCain; it was not even close - 7 points. Ah, well, New Hampshire was always contarian to the polls and the models. Whaddya gonna do?
We knew we were in real trouble when Rhode Island was announced as too close to call. Vermont and Massachusetts went as expected for Obama, but Connecticut wasn't called for Obama until late into the evening. By then it did not matter very much (And Rhode Island ultimately went GOP.)
New York, Delaware and DC were easy calls for the Democrat; but Maryland was tied up. Then Pennsylvania. The news only went further south as the tallies went south down the Eastern Seaboard. Virginia by 4 for McCain. North Carolina, once the hope for a major upset? McCain by 9. Florida by 7; they called it even before the polls closed in the Panhandle. West Virginia, Georgia, South Carolina... the margins were unprecedented.
It was not even 7:30 Eastern Standard Time and the score was McCain 125 Obama 75.
There was a lot of America left to vote. We were prepared for such scenarios, we just didn't expect the East Coast to act so oddly, but these were odd times.
Then the rest of the states east of the Mississippi weighed in.
Only Illinois and Wisconsin went for Obama. Score now McCain 207 Obama 106
Until reaching the Pacific, the only state to vote Obama after that was Iowa by 2 points.
Oregon, California and Hawaii would step up... the final count in the Electoral College would be McCain 360, Obama 178.
We never saw it coming. We had believed our own hype; that people do want to be better, to build communities, to be more civil and giving as a solution to overcoming daunting challenges.
And people entertained such notions for a while, even liked to hear themselves saying such ideas among their friends.
But at the end of the day, worried over bills, over jobs, over mounting uncertainty in their lives and in the life of the country, they went the other way.
And that other way means a concession speech in a matter of minutes.
If only this was the worst of it; when the country turned on a dime away from hope, they turned the Congress over to the Republicans, as well.
The decision is made. It will be their vision, not ours, that prevails for the rest of American history.
For I am convinced now that despite the call of the Federalist, to look to our better angels, we have instead turned as country to accept our more dreadful demons instead.
And because of this, I think the rest of American history will be a short chapter indeed.
Already the triumphant cries for retribution are being sent over the airwaves by Vice President-elect Palin. She remembers everyone who defied her or criticized, or simply wasn't with her every step of the way.
I glance up. Ah, the victor. My friend, John S McCain III. He looks tired.
Not so the soon-to-be ex-Governor of Alaska. She is just getting started. I think she is already thinking of higher office than the one that she just won.
The crowd howls wildly, she pauses and smiles, the most powerful woman on Earth. Before, they were motivated by fear and ambition. Now, they are motivated by victory and an appetite to express triumph in a more muscular way. Already, journalists are being attacked. The footage is going live across the world. One network channel goes dark. An aide bangs the monitor, just as the feed cuts back to the studio in New York.
Oddly enough, it was a FoxNews camera that went down. They are laughing, apologizing for the live-action violence at their own colleagues' expense.
They are giddy with victory, as well. But fear is in their eyes, too.
I gather myself for the necessity, for the Republic. Suddenly there is a clamor from the far side of the room. Armor-vested men in black uniforms and mirrored sunshades are pouring into the room. An officer presents himself. I am told there is a clear and present threat to national security and that for the good of the country I need to be removed to a place of safety.
"But I am the guy who lost," I laugh, raising my hands slowly. I hear shots fired in the distance. A scream, and a persistent wail.
"Yes, you are," a smiling officer says. It is then that I notice that several of the soldiers have guns are not quite pointed at me, but situated so they could easily do so, with no danger of striking any of their comrades. "Please come with us, Senator."
As I walk with my dubious honor guard, in protective custody, I look around at the faces of the people who have journeyed with me so far... so close to the light of hope. Perhaps, like Icarus, we flew too close to the Sun.
I notice there are quite a few more soldiers than one would think needed to protect a VIP. We walk past a window overlooking the ballroom, where I was to give my concession speech. I do not think there will be any such speech now.
It is then I notice Phil, one of the Secret Service detail, with his head wet and dented on the floor at my feet.
"You're not Secret Service," I state the obvious.
"We are now."