All around conference tables today, there are politicians wailing and gnashing their teeth. Many will be having first aid applied to their egos by the end of the day. The General Electorate have spoken truly, the party hacks are pissed that there are things still beyond their control.
The news media are spreading a plague of ill bodings, fomenting tension of the What Happens Now. Colin James gets bulimic about the economy, while Brian Fallows asks for a barf bag. The DomPost has a two-week hangover, making BZP look tame by comparison. NZBR's Richard Kerr has predictably called for a re-examination of MMP, while Business NZ's Phil O'Reilly points out only a bad craftsman blames his tools.
Smokers, excusing themselves to bask in the chill spring sunshine, will be using these starting points to dissect every flaw of our newly-elected Electric Monks. Mel Brooks once said, "Tragedy is when I cut my little finger. Comedy is when you walk into a open sewer and die."
