It's August in Denver (National Review)

[Cronus Protagonist]

First of all, consider the source, and ask yourself why are these people thinking about this possibility? Could it be because it's the outcome they fear most?

Secondly, this is a good example of the kind of thinking that wins elections - consider all possibilities and have a plan for them all. Those of us who refuse to consider any negative possibilities of the future are condemned to lose. This is how the conservatives win time and again - they look at and plan for possible outcomes. They have a plan in place for whatever happens.

Our candidates' supporters put their fingers in their ears and yell "neener neener" so as to avoid seeing anything negative, and when we get caught with our pants down, we wonder one more time, how the hell did we snatch defeat from the jaws of victory AGAIN?

Here's one way to snatch VICTORY from the jaws of defeat. Consider it well.

The Man on the White Stallion

. . . It’s August in Denver. You have a convention hall full of party activists, nervous and weary from months of watching the party’s two candidates clawing and scratching at each other. Both those candidates are looking pretty tattered. Bill Clinton’s mistress has spilled the beans on

O’Reilly, and Michelle Obama’s senior sociology thesis has come to light — the one where she let loose on the “ineradicable racism of white Americans” and called the U.S.A. “a nation founded in crime and hatred.” McCain is looking stronger than ever. The Turks are advancing on Kirkuk. Iran has lobbed a ballistic test missile far out over the Indian Ocean. The Chinese are mad as hell following the collapse of the summer Olympics the week before, as athletes refused to compete in gritty smog, and are making new threats against Taiwan. It’s a dangerous world out there, and community organizing and ed-biz wonkery are being marked down as presidential qualifications.

What to do? What to do? The party bosses are slumped in their seats, staring blankly into space, or doing job searches on their Blackberries. All is gloom and despondency.

Then … A fanfare of trumpets! A shaft of light! Into the hall rides a man on a white stallion! Stirred from their lethargy, the delegates begin rising from their seats. They start cheering and applauding. The rider reaches the podium, dismounts, and strides to the dais. The applause is deafening now. Cheers ring round the hall! Women are weeping; men are hugging each other.

Broad-shouldered and confident, his sternocleidomastoid muscle flexing and rippling, the Rescuer sweeps his powerful gaze around the hall. A hush falls. He begins to speak. As he speaks, the same though{sic} settles on every listener simultaneously: This is the one. He has always been the one. What fools we have been!

http://tinyurl.com/6xkdoh