Emotional Enemas

Today was the ultimate in emotional enemas.

Have you ever had an enema? Now I realize this may well be TMI. But you know what? I'm gonna go there. I had one once, when I was a little girl. I went to the emergency room for what would turn out to be kidney stones. At the time though, they thought I was constipated, and so they gave me one. I'll spare you any further details, except to say that I imagine if you actually need one, they are very, erm, cleansing and theraputic.

I think that the collective heart of America got an enema today. I feel like mine did. I feel like the past 8 years I have just had to Tamp It Down. Let's get into a Make Believe War that carries a real body count. Tamp It Down. Let's bully the world as a whole. Tamp It Down. Let's pretend that pillaging the planet and consuming purely for the joy of consumption is without consequence. Tamp It Down. Let's do it all over again for four more years! Tamp It Down. Let's monitor the innocent, torture the accused, and use hate and intolerance as a unifier. Tamp. It. Down. There's only so much bottling up of emotion you can do. Even when people have written letters, made signs, and shouted in the streets, we Stayed The Course.

And then we got an enema today, and all the shit was flushed right out. And it felt really, really good.

I really hate (although it's very fitting) that for all the emotions that I've felt and the things that I've thought, that all I can distill it into is a poop metaphor. Well, a leopard doesn't change its socks, does it?

No, it doesn't, but every so often it gets a shiny new President. And that's good.