https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AccoiQtjVwE

We were planning this long Serious Post about voter suppression and election undermining, stemming from the FBI revelations and trawling Our Exceptional Nation’s long history of resisting the franchise for anyone but White male landowners, how one era’s gains can easily become another era’s setbacks, how that sustained and strong resistance shows how valuable a single vote remains, because there’s so much power and treasure to be gained from it. It was going to be an undeniably compelling piece of writing, sure to go viral as the country suddenly lurched to its senses before election day, and guaranteeing us a parade even bigger than the Broncos.

And then somebody mentioned “penguin sex” in passing on Twitter and we decided life’s too short.

Making our peace with Hillary Clinton last spring was like making our peace with watered-down Obamacare seven years ago: The legislation was poorly conceived and managed, it was neutered to appease an opposition that never intended to vote for it, but compared to the alternative, it was all we had. The Damn Bill Passed. Maybe they could fix it in Post.

And now that the initial version is beginning to self-destruct as predicted, we’re starting to hear happy chatter that Hillary may reintroduce our only protection — well, besides universal Medicare — against insurance-company mergers, pullouts and price hikes: the Public Option.

Fat chance.

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Upon Jack’s arrival, St. Peter looked up from a collection of Chick Tracts and asked “What the hell is this shit?”

R.I.P. Jack Chick, comics scaremonger [A.V. Club]

We’re more than happy to join the national pearl-clutching over Donald Trump’s remarks that he won’t necessarily concede the election if he loses.

But we also happen to think that it won’t make the slightest difference.

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As it happens, we were called away to the Ancestral Home last week to Settle All Family Business, so we missed pretty much the entire Decline & Fall — The Tape, The Debate, Ken Bone, The Whatever-The-Opposite-Of-Bimbo-Eruptions Is. And, arriving back at Mile-High Stinque Domination Headquarters, all that was left was predictions/fears of post-election mayhem.

Oh, and this thing tonight.

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You know the best time we ever had in an audience? Rocky Horror Picture Show, 1979. It was still fresh — first time in college-town Eugene — and while we were a total novice, we had some knowledgeable friends to instruct us in the Mysteries of hot dogs and playing cards.

So we’re thinking about the Town Hall debate tonight, how the format calls for questions from the audience, and really, wouldn’t you rather be dancing the Time Warp in the aisles and throwing household goods at the stage?

But short of that, we suspect you’ll be yelling DAMMIT repeatedly as you watch and join us for our Presidential Debate Open Thread/Sex Comedy. Don’t dream it. Be done with it.