Extremism is so much fun. When hyperbole is just a kind of mint jelly, all sorts of excess becomes possible. It both glues and greases this country's political machine.

When Bill Clinton was elected president I was working at an archeology firm (they do exist, and they paid me $4.15/hr for things I do today) and listening to good ol' Rush Limbaugh every day. That November day it was like the Apocalypse had rolled up its sleeves and given ol' Rush the Noogie of Death. Dirges, mourning, and rants about the country's imminent demise dominated the show, and continued to for the next two years. They all knew, they all knew, it was the end of the world, and Bill Clinton would be the one holding the drain plug with that big goofy grin on his face.

When George Bush was (eventually) elected president, I was working where I am now, surrounded by Democrats so fervent they have yellow dogs tattooed on their asses. That December day it was as if the curtain of the temple had been torn asunder. I half expected my mother to don sackcloth and start throwing ashes. They all knew, they all knew, it was the end of the world, and George Bush would be the one with the drain plug chain wrapped around his ankle trying to figure out where the toilet sound was coming from.

Extremism sucks the sense of humor out of a person faster than Jenna Jameson on crystal meth. Caller after caller to Rush's show demanded Clinton's impeachment years before he failed to squirm out from under a legal oath. I had someone who I otherwise consider extremely intelligent declare with complete sincerity that George Bush was just one judicial appointment away from banning birth control. Both sides insist to this day they're right, and treat the other, again with granite-lined sincerity, as if they were at best deluded fools or at worst apostates and traitors.

It's rather fun to eat popcorn on the sidelines and watch the two sides fling poo at each other, play Cassandra as if Aeschylus himself were writing the lines, or engage in temper tantrums that would make a two-year-old antichrist blush.

Because you know what? In spite of his inability to actually take a stand on something that might piss one or two people off, the country really was better off when Bill Clinton left than when he arrived. You know what else? Everyone said George Bush was a bomb-throwing moron when he called North Korea part of the "axis of evil". It was only after more than a year of digging that the press quietly admitted that, well, yes, those things in that satellite photo do look an awful lot like giant concentration camps after all don't they, and gosh, did you realize they're working on ICBMs that could hit Los Angeles?

I liked Bill Clinton because he really tried his best to make the country easier to live in for the less fortunate among us, and we needed that then. I disliked him because he was too smart for his own good, was afraid of pissing anyone off, and surrounded himself with left-wing zealots who beavered away at separating me from my money. I like George Bush because he's three times smarter than anyone thinks he is and is more decisive and precise than an argon laser, and we need that now. I dislike him because he's surrounded himself with right-wing zealots who are beavering away at separating me from my rights.

Most of all I know that in many ways none of it matters. The founding fathers rightly feared an efficient dictator or lunatic king, and so made the presidency no more powerful than the other two sides of the triangle, in many ways far weaker. The miracle of our country is that anything one government does can be undone by the next if it seems too wonky, right up to the constitution (18th amendment, anyone?) In essence, our country has a giant UNDO button sewn into it, guaranteeing nothing really stupid can stay that way for very long.

But please, don't mind me, I'm just the rational guy sitting in the corner trying to figure out how to breathe in with one nostril and out with the other. Don't let me interrupt your anarchic waltz with unreality and disillusionment. I'm smiling at you precisely because you don't think any of this is funny.