I’m sorry. I just can’t take it anymore. This font, that font, kerning, spacing, cheesesteaks … I’m done. I’m done parsing and I’m done with arguing with guys who subscribe to Internet Tough Guy and go by “ArabKiller” online, and I’m done arguing with trolls about whether we should be reaching out to undecided voters who are clearly insane or just getting out the votes of the people smart enough to recognize what’s happening and come to a conclusion.

I am worrying about polls that make no sense, and it is giving me an ulcer. I am listening to people say with all sincerity that they do not know what Kerry’s positions or his plan for America are. I am listening to other people say that they understand why people can say that. I can’t. Dudes wrote a book, okay? You want to be pissed off that you don’t know their plan? What, do you want them to come over to your house and read it to you? I am getting enraged over this and not only is it getting me nowhere, it is not helping me do anything for the goals I hope to achieve.

The next fifty days are going to be incredible. Exciting, at times excruciating, but incredible. And however they end, I want to remember them as a time when we began again to take joy in the everyday combat of politics, to be proud of who we are and what we stand for. I want to remember them as a time when we rose up and shouted as loudly as we could, in all our varied voices, to whatever end.

I’m confident that we can do this, because I’ve seen thousands of people stand in the rain to see a man speak. I’ve seen a woman lose her job so she could keep a man’s name on her car. I’ve seen people march in the streets by the hundreds of thousands and I’ve seen their faces and I’ve seen what we can do when we stop stopping ourselves in our tracks.

For the next fifty days, I’m going to look at things like this:

And I’m going to believe. The alternative, after all, does nothing good for me or anybody else.

A.