A Terrible Confession

I’ve been setting up things so I can watch the Mid-Terms Tuesday night.  I’ll post updates on the blog and I’ll be following all the news outlets, both written and video feeds.  I’ve told the folks at work that I’ll probably be coming in late and certain to be catatonic at best.  I’ve gone on record as saying that the Republicans will gain 3-5 seats in the Senate and hold the House by one or two seats.  Now, truth be told, I am in no way certain about the Republicans holding the House.  And having to stay up until 4 am to see California put the Democrats over the top would be a bitter pill to swallow and something I would rather avoid.  But I feel I must watch this election.  I think there is a reasonable chance I’ll be able to watch a repeat of the 2016 Progressive Pundit Meltdown (PPM).  Watching the PPM was one of the most intoxicating visual spectacles of my life.  And I say this even though I’ve watched the live feeds from the moon landing, the fall of the Berlin Wall, both Gulf Wars and several previous Democratic election routs.  The 2016 PPM was exquisite.  Seeing the talking heads at ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS, MSNBC, Huffington Post and the Young Turks slowly come to grips with the loss of Hillary Clinton was endlessly entertaining.  And sure, the aftermath of the loss also sparked a whole wave of videos featuring progressive celebrities, minor celebrities and nobodies howling at the moon in full-throated despair.  And those were absolutely hilarious.  But it was watching in real time as the Clinton Win-o-meter slowly descended from eighty five percent down to zero and seeing that descent mirrored in the voices and facial expressions of these “objective journalists” that was so addictive.  I want another hit.

I know I shouldn’t chance it.  I should feign stoic indifference and say that the details of the election cycles are a matter of complete indifference to me and instead point to the arc of history working inexorably to fulfill the destiny of the great revolution (all hail the shining dawn of something or other).  But it’s too tempting.  I’m a PPM junkie and I want my fix.  And risking a viewing of a republican wipe-out is equivalent to a junkie risking his life on bad smack.  I’m hooked.

So that’s my terrible secret.  I’m going in with only a 50/50 prospect of seeing the evil glory of Chris Cuomo looking like an extremely stupid coyote falling off a cliff.  Of hearing Rachel Maddow sputter out her bitter disappointment at America not being “with her.”  Of seeing and hearing the carnie barkers on the Young Turks lash out at anyone and everyone to vent their mindless rage.  It’s not smart or safe.  But schadenfreude is just too damn seductive.

So, if you’re looking for a guaranteed win on Tuesday and don’t want to risk a terrible letdown then you’re best off giving the whole thing a pass.  Watch some fun stuff and avoid the news until Wednesday morning and pretend indifference if the Dems manage to take the House.  I’ll totally understand.  But if you’re a risk taker who wants a chance to do the end-zone dance with fellow travelers while the studios are still awash in the salty goodness of progressive tears then stay up for the 2018 PPM death-watch with me on Tuesday night.  Who knows maybe some of those blue haired millennials who were on suicide watch in 2016 could make a come back this week and give me something really fun to watch over the Christmas holiday again this year.  Good times.