So, waking up this morning was a bit like a movie:

You go to bed full of hope in the future, confident that tomorrow will be a bright and sunny day where nothing wrong can happen any more, all that, you know…

And when you wake up, there are undead people running across your lawn, destruction and desolation clutter every horizons and the teenage girl from next-door is devouring your boyfriend’s brains.

Or something along that line.

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Being a bedridden moribund with not much better to do than following the outcome of the next Mister Homecoming America pageant, I guess I ought to be somewhat enthralled by the close race unfolding before our eyes.

Truth is: I don’t really care anymore.

First, Kerry is gonna win the election. by a landslide. [yea, you got that right...]

Many reasons to that. including, but not limited to, the fact that polls did not pay the slightest attention to the radically different political context of this year: much stronger mobilization, mass registration drives among minorities, youngins actually getting off their ass to go cast a vote, since p-diddy and eminem told them to do so… all them people who are usually not George’s best friends. And despite all this, the restrictive sample polled still can’t get itself to give a clear support to the incumbent.
Let’s just say it’s not looking too good for Mr. Yeehaw tonight. Which should have the added effect of pushing most of the undecided morons, off their fence, into Kerry’s garden (”undecided” being just the standard technical term for “whatever the majority decides… baaah…”).

I did not say that Kerry would be the next president, mind you: for that to happen, we would still have to see that poor excuse for an electoral system somewhat working in the direction of the democratic process. A concept that got lost rather early in the application of that massively irrelevant piece of law they call the US Constitution.

It is not totally out of the question either, that a bunch of young republicans lead by Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld clad in black denim uniform and cow-boy hats would go and discreetly slit the throat of a few hundreds political opponent while Dubya declares martial law on the ground that Kerry couldn’t have won without the help of the Terrahrists.

Although my guess is that they’ll keep that for 2008.

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Since we all know how tiresome the meteorological insights of a stranger leaving thousands of miles away can be, I’ll try to be brief and promise you it’s the last time I mention the topic for the season (ok, maybe once or twice more, but really, I’ll make an effort). Allow me to state publicly:

I hate winters.

I hate cold winters.

I hate rainy cold winters.

I hate Japanese ill-designed house insulation… or complete absence thereof.

Something has to be done.

Taking my cues on the Animal kingdom, I am currently considering my two main alternatives: migration or hibernation.

Unfortunately, hoping on a plane to Thailand is gonna be tough, seing as I’m little more than a shriveled coughing ball of sweat and phlegm at the moment. I’d probably be considered a health hazard even for the most avian flu-hardened of Thai poultry.

Remains the other option: digging a hole in my garden deep enough to fit me along with a few months supply of oyu-wari shochu and rum, and only come out with the first days of Spring. But there again, my health condition, along with stupid matters of good neighbouring behaviours have so far put a hold to this plan.

I shall therefore do with the next best treatment modern science can offer: hourly cough medicine washed down with a grog, only leaving the kotatsu to refill the rum flask… Might keep with that plan for the rest of Winter, actually.