See, if it rains, it'll wash off his disguise, and then everyone will see him for the Antichrist that he really is...

So, um, yeah.

I have no witty comment for this.

Except, well, okay. Here's the premise, as I understand it: you believe in a force so omniscient that it created the cosmos and dimensions of time and space and thought and stars and planets and baby ducks and rockets and shoes and string and squirrels and late-night TV and Arnold Schwarzenegger and Lego and barometric pressure and even, y'know, Sour Cream & Onion chips. Alla' that stuff. You believe in a creator whose will you say is in all things, from the birth of the largest galaxy to the death of the most infinitesimal cell in your body and all manner of things in between. You say that nothing happens without this deity's say-so, right? You show me 'proof', and more 'proof', and even more 'proof', and then turn around and say the proof is in your heart, that it's a matter of faith.

I get all that. I do. What I don't get is this matter of petitioning this Architect of Everything into performing parlour tricks in order to alleviate fears you might have about two fellas kissin' and wimmens gettin' uppity and ohmigod there's a coloured fella in the White House please God make it rain and wash 'em all away.

I'm sorry - that was unfair; still, this all seems to fly in the face of the whole idea of faith.

Here's an idea: howzabout you pray for 'God' (for lack of a better term) to move within the hearts and minds of your fellow Americans, to cause them go out and vote according to their own consciences, and then if things go your way, high-fives for everyone, but if they don't, well, that's cool, because that's the way it's supposed to work, right?

(And I know it's easy for me to sit up here and take potshots at American culture and politics, but please understand: I live in Canada. Our political system is boring, run by used vacuum cleaner salesmen and ex-hippies. No one gets to have any fun whatsoever, and we all have to sing songs about a Queen who doesn't even live here.)

Anyway: just needed to get that outta my system. Do what you want, because according to MY beliefs, it's only eight more years until the universe emerges from its larval stage and turns into a bratty teenager, and we all become cosmic acne and pubic hair and wet dreams, and then Jesus returns from his vacation to say, "Aw, man, you guys got it ALL wrong, what I meant was this..." and then we all eat cake.

I turn my back for five goddamned minutes...

Apparently, American Apparel has opened a store in my neighbourhood, which means that I really have to start training my daughter how to defecate on command, so that when we pass by the shop on our morning walks, we can properly communicate our feelings regarding their douchey clothes.

A few quick things:

1. Tagging done truly old school.

2. The best song I've heard in a long time.

3. If you fell for this, you really deserved to lose however much money you spent on it.

4. Robert Downey, Jr. to play Sherlock Homes? Yes, please. Sacha Baron Cohen to play Sherlock Holmes, as well? Sure, why not?

5. This is possibly the most disturbing thing I have seen in a long time, and I'm a David Lynch fan.

6. ...and now, a man jumping on eggs.

Gotta go shave. Be good.