Biden, Biden, Biden, Biden, Biden.

Life   Here we are then.  He's gone.  Or will be in three months.

Having been watching CNN solidly for three days, of course the moment happened when I wasn't in the house for various reasons.  As is so often the case these days the news came via a tweet, or rather a stream of tweets as various news organisations called the race, once Joe's lead in Pennsylvania reached over thirty thousand.

My expectation was that it would be an anti-climax after all of the waiting and the surety of the moment.

It was not.  It was one of the happiest moments of my young life and I'm 46 now.

The past four years have been exhausting.  Waking up each morning and glancing through twitter and discovering what this attention sponge has said or done overnight, his every move sucking the joy out of everything.

Listening to his voice.  Seeing that face.

He won't be gone.  Not yet.  The prospect of the next three months are terrifying as he does all he can to burn the house down.  He won't go quietly and given the number of votes he won either way, he won't be completely gone from culture.  

His supporters will still be out in force, angry about the libtards stealing the presidency from him.  Or at least they will until the next shiny moon of toxicity drifts into view.

But more importantly, mainstream news organisations just won't have a reason to cover everything he says.  For the most part, once he's not POTUS he'll be shouting into a metaphorical void and then hopefully, eventually, solitary confinement with its literal emptiness.

Plus once he's not a head of state, Twitter will be in a position to ban him.  Finally.

But, despite everything else happening in this shitty world, 2020 has given us something back.  

Perhaps Brexit can be reversed too and we can finally put 2016 behind us.