This election cycle has been a treat for the mind and the senses. We've seen cable news use social networking to pose tough questions (OK, sometimes from snowmen) to candidates.

Then, there's Mike Gravel who gave us an ontological feast that left us pondering life's core questions: Are we the rock, plunging unhelped into the pond of debt, war and doubt? Are we the pond, able to envelop all assaults, dispersing and reducing those impacts until our countenance is again unperturbed? Is Paula Abdul really as off-her-ass drunk as she appears?

Oh! Oh! And then there's this from Camp Paul (H/T to Masson's Blog). It has a definite "step out of the Matrix" sensibility to it. Sorry, Ron. We all took the blue pill and crawled back into our pods.

Certainly, this pri-caucu-mary has lead us places no one could have suspected and given us an improbable trio of candidates at this point: the Black dude, the white chick and the old, white guy.

I'm as happy as a cat hittin' the nip.

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