The separation anxiety is starting already. What will I do when you leave office? What will America do? For eight years you have been our anchor, our dead weight. You have taught us to love quagmires and ruination. You have served as a role model for my psychosis and my self-destructive impulses.
Who could possibly replace you? The Palin-McCain ticket shows promise, and there is no doubt Palin would bring a splash of color to the Oval Office, but both of them are too articulate to scale your heights.
I drape my soul in black and scream my lamentations to the heavens! Whom shall I praise? Whom shall I worship? The God of Keystone Kop Power is fading, and the world darkens as his very light of very light fades.
I must build a shrine of depleted uranium whose glow will illuminate your smirking presence.
Hear my tears, O George! I sob the sob for the SOB who taught the world that power is simply a self-destructive implosion.
Never has martial law looked so inviting.