Congratulations to the Red Sox.

The great thing about the win is that we don't have to hear about that stupid "curse" anymore. Well, we'll hear about it a lot in the next few weeks, and in the beginning of spring training next year, and then-- not so much. From now on, Sox, when you blow a 6 game lead in September, you'll have to admit it's just because you collapsed and weren't very good rather than carrying on with this nonsense about a curse.

Political ramifications? Obviously, John Kerry wants to read the win as some sort of a metaphor for the triumph of Northeastern liberalism. That just got a little bit harder:

GIBSON: "Well, well said, Curt and Shonda. You both have certainly lifelong membership now in the Red Sox nation. It was a great thing to watch, and I think everybody – whether they were great Red Sox fans or not -- had to admire what this team did. It was extraordinary, and one of the great stories of sport. And sport always produces such great stories. Curt, Shonda, great to have you with us. Congratulations."

SCHILLING: "And make sure you tell everybody to vote, and vote Bush next week."

The Sox victory, combined with the Schilling endorsement of Bush, just caused Son of Nixon's head to explode like Michael Ironside in Scanners.

Son of Nixon will be missed. A little.

H/T: Tanker.

And, for that one of you who is a fan of the foul-mouthed time-travelling baloney sandwich known as Johnny Coldcuts, turns out that he got another one right, back on June 8:


Wanna get rich, fuckface? Five fuckin' words: Red Sox World Series Sweep! Eh, go ahead and fuckin' ignore me, ya dirty shitmongers.

Now, Johnny travels in time, but he's a 1 a substance abuser and 2 a moron, so his visions of the future are often clouded by Rufies and old-fashioned stupidity. But it looks like he got that one right.

Thanks to Jeff Kelly for reminding me of that and Stumbo for tracking the prediction down.

Johnny Coldcuts has another prediction to make-- let's hope he's not high:

George Bush wins 54-43 in the popular vote; takes all battleground states and Michigan and New Jersey. You can bet your dirty-bastard lives on it, jerkweeds.

Sounds good to me, Johnny.

Ailing Arafat to be Treated in, Surprise Surprise, Paris