Low Post

Hysterical. Matt Taibbi is quickly becoming one of my favorite political writers. Don't worry, Pierce, Walcott and Ms. Molly, you'll always be at the top of the list.

When I woke up in my hotel in Pittsburgh the morning after the elections there was a yellow legal pad and a Pittsburgh Pirates novelty pen ($4.95 in the Sheraton gift shop) splayed on the bedspread, the pad containing about nine pages of single-spaced notes. The night before, after coming home from Rick Santorum's concession speech downtown, I'd flopped in bed, popped a sleeping pill and started frantically taking notes from the various cable-news election spectaculars.

There is a lot of garbage and nonsense in these notes (i.e. "10:47 p.m. Chris Matthews' mouth always looks like it just had a cock in it/something about the way he moves his lips/creepy") but on the whole it is a fairly accurate representation of the long arc of depression I followed before finally falling asleep late in the morning: