You know how sometimes when you go out with friends, and you're all drinking your heads off, and having a great time -- there's that moment. That moment when, after feeling like you're so fucking happy, having such an awesome time, and you're so happy to be alive -- that moment when right after feeling so wonderful, you realize it: you're about to hurl. You've just sipped one cosmo too many, and you're gonna be sick. Bad things are about to happen, and you're powerless to stop them because you had one drink too many. Sometimes it's even just one sip too many.
Whatever the case, in that terrible moment, you know you're about to see all those drinks -- and god only knows what else, maybe your liver? -- come roaring back out of your belly and onto the ground or the seat of the taxicab or someplace.
You know that moment.
That's how I felt as I watched the beautiful and brilliant Rachel Maddow discussing Bush's efforts to rewrite his fucked-up legacy into something like that of an FDR -- liberator of peoples, gosh-darn nice guy who talks about a "do-over" on Iraq, and so forth.
There's that one shining moment in which you see the sweet dykey loveliness of Rachel, and all is right with the world because you know she's about to say something smart and interesting and cool.
But then it happens -- that moment. The name "BUSH" is mentioned, and in that moment you know you're gonna vomit all over yourself, your friends, and anyone and anything that's in range.
Watch the video. You'll know what I mean.