DC TODAY. I'm in one of those goddamn Huffington buses on the way to that Jon Stewart thing. Being broke, I appreciate the free ride, but I gotta tell you, when Ms. Huffington came out to Citifield in the pre-dawn dark, surrounded by camera and lights, and people were yelling "thank you" at her, I felt like telling them, "That's right, dogs, lick your mistress' ass!" I, a true son of liberty, might have been grateful to ride in Arianna's limo, within reach of her knee, but not for being piled onto a stinking bus with a lot of other slobs so she can look good to her rich friends.

Now in Delaware. If you have something you want me to yell at Sheryl Crow, let me know in comments.

UPDATE. A little touch of Ari in the night:


I didn't get anywhere near Sheryl Crow, and this time it wasn't the restraining order, but the size of the crowd that prevented me. I shimmied through the hordes for about an hour before giving up and calling an old friend for lunch.

Attendees seemed cheerful, mostly young, and not too concerned with the paucity of jumbotrons and relatively quiet audio. Many wore costumes, some carried signs ("This Sign Is Making My Arms Hurt"); there were some of those goofy top hats associated with lordly hippie misrule, and why not? The spirit was mostly unserious, which could be taken either as a sign of defiance or of resignation in the face of national madness, depending on how one's mood swings. In either case it was a nice day to walk among them.









UPDATE 2. Rightbloggers, it seems at the stage, mostly saw only Fatwa Stevens. A shame they missed Ozzie!