He seems to be the only person who feels like I do. At least the only one I find in my small little internet world.  None of my friends see what he and I see. And it warms the cockles of my little heart it does.

So then. I say we’re being asked, right now, to understand that there are, in fact, two fundamental kinds of history. The first is the most common, the type we’ve grown pathetically used to, the type that soils the spirit and stabs us in the back as it takes down office towers and induces war and misprision and wallows in nearly unbearable quantities of fear. We get that a lot.

The second kind is perhaps the most rare of all. This is the history that comes around only once or twice per generation, that emerges from somewhere deep and urgent to move us forward; it’s a kind that invites growth and sparks surprisingly constructive feelings in everyone and everything it touches. Do you recognize that kind? Right. Me neither. Until now.

And now here it is, in the form of this Obama fellow, this rare and extraordinary flavor of history, this impossible thing, right on our doorstep, awaiting our vote, merely asking us if we’re ready. Are we?

Mark Morford

The current economic crisis demands that we understand John McCain’s attitudes about economic oversight and corporate influence in federal regulation. Nothing illustrates the danger of his approach more clearly than his central role in the savings and loan scandal of the late ’80s and early ’90s.

From Keating Economics

I don’t know about you but one of the shining moments of the VP debate a couple of weeks ago was Joe Biden’s heartfelt moment when recalling the tragedy that hit his family when he wasn’t yet 30. Not only was I impressed with how he stayed on topic, how he actually answered questions, and how, at the end, he finally confronted The Palin on this whole bullshit “maverick” business, but I was incredibly amazed and honored by the only show of real heartfelt tender human emotion in what has turned into a crapfest of lies. I was proud of him and for him. He really did an incredible job. But most folks (crap, now a word I use all the time because my Dad used it too has become something I have to think twice about using, damn that, that slag) weren’t there to see Biden. We were there to watch The Palin fall on her ass. Which she didn’t literally do but to those of us who consider ourselves Thinking Americans her performance was dismal. I couldn’t have been happier.

But Joe Biden stuck with me and I discovered today that I am not alone.

After his tears, and after the debate, I went into my voluminous files to see if my recollection of Biden’s dark days of 1972 matched the honorable and loving family man I had just witnessed on the stage in St. Louis. If my memory had any weakness, it was in not recalling the full promise and shattered life of the freshman senator from Delaware who, in the winter of his own despair, took the time to write a 15-year-old, while taking on his new duties in Washington D.C. and at home in Wilmington as a single father of two. So while McCain and Palin do their best to undermine the Democrats trustworthiness and character, let us praise the family man from Delaware who could and should be our next vice president.

Read the entire article and see photos.