What Will You Do When It's Over?

In 21 days, it will be finished. Whether you voted early or late or not at all, on November 5 you will (probably!) know the name of the next president of the United States.

Anything can happen in three weeks, etc., so let's not talk about the most likely scenario -- ha ha, the rednecks get a black president -- and focus on the Morning After, when this absurd billion-dollar campaign staggers to a finish.

What will you people do now, for fun? Spend four or eight years obsessed with the new president and typing nonsense comments on websites, like you've done for the entire Bush Junior Era and most of the Clinton years? Calling Rush Limbaugh or Air America or whatever all the time, because you're unemployed? Start making meth and moonshine once the money for booze and prescriptions runs out?

We've had long campaigns before, but never one that lasted two entire years, and never one that involved so many people who weren't paid to pay attention. The consultants, lobbyists, reporters, pollsters, commentators, lawyers and even the lowly losing candidates will take a few weeks off, maybe go to the Caribbean or a nice Greek island if they can still afford it.

And then they will start new jobs, new campaigns, new consultancies, new cable-news specials about the new thing everybody's freaked out about -- probably the New Depression and all its attendant horrors.

And they'll get paid, a lot.

What about you?

Even if the new administration magically solves all the nation's problems and rains magic money on everyone crushed by the housing collapse and health insurance and joblessness, that's not going to happen before Inauguration Day on January 20 of next year.

So, even if every promise of whatever candidate comes true, at least three long, cold months wait between Election Day and the New Hope (or Old Hope, whatever).

It's not like you're going to riot or whatever if your candidate doesn't win. Americans aren't exactly in fighting shape. So, anything you do is going to happen on or very near to a couch, if you still have a couch.



Ken Layne is the managing editor of Wonkette. He is taking a two-week vacation after this freakin' election is finally over.