You promised yourself you wouldn’t do a postmortem. To what end? The all-knowing pundits — from former WH operatives to exalted journalists to shrill TV girlies — already dissected the election corpse and uncovered any number of incurable diseases. The milk is decidely spilt — and curdled. Just let it go. The deed is done. Bury the dead. Yes, indeed, but long ago you incessantly predicted the carnage and now, tearfully, you deserve to indulge your “rightness.” Mitt was bound to lose,  not because he moved too far to the Right, not because of demographics, not because women wanted their contraception and Roe vs Wade protection at taxpayer expense, not because he threatened the Gangs . . er .. the Unions, not because the majority of young voters are ignorant (which they are), not because blacks are racist (which they are), not because Hispanics wanted free stuff (which they do) and not because network TV is morally and ethically corrupt (which it is). Mitt lost because:

He and his advisers, in their collective gut, thought they couldn’t lose. The American people, at crunch time, would never, ever, re-elect an abject failure, a pompous, unmitigated liar and transparent Socialist  — someone so clearly resentful and bitter toward American exceptionalism. They wouldn’t. Wrong. Dead wrong.

His message was always off target. He was persuaded that “it’s only the economy, stupid.” Yes, everybody knew the problems; they didn’t need to be told and told and told. He droned on about unemployment, the deficits, food stamps and other economic statistics. If you have cancer, no one needs to tell you over and over  that you have it. You know it.

He didn’t acknowledge that the economy was only a symptom of a more perilous threat. He refused to look evil in the face and name it, not daring to upset his darling demographic — the Almighty Independent. He refused to fight an ideological war because ideology is a dirty word. As his opponent raped the Constitution, he — as an American citizen — exhibited not the slightest outrage. He did not defend America.

He attempted to reach into the minds of voters and utterly avoided their hearts. A fine human being through and through, he ironically ignored humanity. The people desperately were looking for a warrior — The Gladiator — to step into the arena and call out Commodus. Somehow, Mitt didn’t understand that many great warriors are also great men.

He allowed evil deeds to stand unchallenged. So fearful of drawing blood and alienating moderate voters, he walked on eggshells and played “prevent defense,” thinking the election was his, IF he didn’t slip. The Benghazi debate moment was his opportunity, following BHO’s “offended” speech regarding his actions after the tragedy. Mitt needed to throw off his political hat, and say: “Excuse me, Mr. President, but as an American citizen, I’m offended you would come out on this stage and hand me and the American people this line of sanctimonious BS. I’m speaking to you now as a citizen, and I’m outraged that you flew off to a political fundraising party the very day after terrorists murdered Americans on American soil. You’re the Commander In Chief– your most important job. How do you justify that? Justify that to the families of those who were murdered.” He didn’t dare then and he didn’t, on numerous other occasions, dare bloody the Obama nose.

He didn’t speak to the Obama constituency with a compelling message. He gave up on them. Meanwhile, he couldn’t or wouldn’t truly energize the conservative base, thinking he had them enthusiastically in the bag, only to see them stay home or cast a million votes for the Libertarian.

But the pundits will prattle on now that no one could have bested the Democrat machine and the demographic takers who were fearful of losing their goodies. As many predicted, several of the truly conservative candidates would have at least gone to war and raised the level of debate to call out the culprits, suspects and criminals. Romney is a good man. You  heard through the grapevine that, behind the scenes, he is as tough as nails — “he didn’t get where he is by being a sissy” — well, too bad he didn’t bring an heroic boldness to the public stage. The stage is pristine clean. Not a drop of blood.

The most important four letter word in America is like, well, like a word that enables conversation to take place, like, among a vary large segment of the population. Without this word, the average person would, like, need a much more extensive vocabulary and, like, an actual understanding of exactly how to put real sentences together. This word has become the essential anchor of our language, nowhere more apparent than, like, where celebrities gather — like on television talk shows and sitcoms. Like, this word is especially necessary to females — say ages 10-40 — roughly 90 million ladies. You recently had occasion to overhear three coeds, like, attempting to describe and discuss an event they witnessed; and in a matter of, like, no more than, like, a minute, this vital word was uttered no less than 50 times. What you are unable to grasp is how this exceptional word escaped the attention of no less stalwart figures than Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln and, like, other superstars of history. Incredibly, like neither the Declaration of Independence nor the Gettysburg Address contains a single mention. Not one. As celebrated as these documents may be, you are, like, perplexed how the brightest minds could, like, have ignored a uniquely American expression — one that could have enlivened these rather plodding compositions. With over 200 years of progress and with the benefit of America’s stellar pubic education system, today’s young minds might offer these improvements: “We , like, hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are, like, created equal, that they are, like, endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are, like, Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” At the cemetery in Gettysburg, Pa., we can only imagine the outpouring of praise, had Abe declared: “. . . that from these honored dead we, like, take increased devotion to that cause for which they, like, gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died, like, in vain — that this nation, like, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not, like, perish from the earth.” To be fair, America’s most dominant four letter word is almost exclusively spoken, not written. Without it, basic communication would, like, be in peril. Talk shows might just become obsolete. An eerie silence would, like, settle over cities and plains, like  chloroform. Not to worry, though. Like this valuable word is not only here to stay, but also flourishing. Like who needs a vocabulary, anyway?

You should understand by now, with all due respect to every religious belief, that the meaning of life and death has escaped exactly 100% of all human beings since the dawn of civilization. That rather infinite statistic should persuade you to escape your foolishness in pondering the unknowable or in imagining the unimaginable. As a typical human of standard intellect, you of course ignore this wisdom as did both your scholarly and dull-witted predecessors. After all, this obsessively inquisitive behavior is  integral to the human genetic code — no less instinctive than the migration of the humpback whale. In fact, this very analytic exercise is like plowing over already tilled soil. But you do it anyway, as if expecting your Maker to allow you and you alone — access to the inaccessible — essentially to occupy a god-like status. How silly. Utterly. Fret not and forgive yourself this rote behavior, because cognition is a uniquely human gift, or curse, depending on your circumstance. Monks, nuns and other clerics make a career out of this sort of resolute mulling. Some, as you would expect, investigate and pore over ancient scrolls thought to be divinely inspired and divinely written by human hand. In pulpits throughout the land, professional theologians go so far as to interpret the divine writings of saintly authors, and even feel compelled to pronounce, with official certainty, what God actually thinks, asks, sees, and  needs — what in fact He wants you to do and think — today. These churchly affirmations seem a bit presumptuous but no doubt are sincere, born out of scriptural study and no small amount of historical evidence — testimony that the devout accept as gospel. This attention to spiritual thought is paramount because your Life Force can’t accommodate the thought of Nothingness, can it? Yet, if Death offers a “peace that passeth all understanding,” why is Life itself precious beyond all else and protected at all cost? And so you come full circle, like a hamster doggedly exercising his wire wheel. Your only excuse for this barren meditation, beyond some mental dysfunction, is an abnormal obsession with injustice. You can rationalize the natural selection of natural disaster and the dark destiny of self-directed human folly. But you have zero capacity for sociopaths who inflict suffering and death; or for afflictions that steal childhood; or political evil and treachery that oppress and persecute millions. No, with all due respect to heavenly redemption, you will never rationalize earthly injustice — the countless examples of unspeakable atrocity — the common examples of unrelenting theft. Since there’s no way out of this incessant brooding, you clearly must wait your turn in line to learn the final answers; and when you do, you may find yourself singing the last verse of a favorite Peggy Lee tune:

I know what you must be saying to yourselves
If that’s the way (he) feels about it
Then why doesn’t (he) just end it all;
Oh no. not me. I’m not ready for the final disappointment,
‘Cause I know just as well as I’m standing here talking to you
That when that final moment comes
And I’m breathing my last breath
I know what I’ll be saying to myself
” Is that all there is ? “

Is that all there is?
If that’s all there is, my friends, then let’s keep dancing
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball
If that’s all there is.