Where did I put that tinfoil hat?

Miz Weasel has a thoughtful post up about our current, er, debacle:

What’s throwing me about this election is that my judgment was so far out. I got all the signs and portents wrong.

We owned the enthusiasm gap. We had, for the first time going into a presidential election, more registered R than registered D. We were easily walking the bumpersticker and yard sign wars. Our guy was happy, their guy was cranky. Our crowds were growing, theirs were shrinking. The issues were all breaking our way (epically lousy economy…erupting Middle East). We had an attractive candidate with, for once, the perfect skill set for the problems at hand.

And you’re telling me every single one of the Republican issues went down in flames? Alan West? Mia Love? Gay marriage? Legalized marijuana? Everything?

What really bothers me are the comments on that post, which I urge you to read in full. I’m finding myself agreeing with people that two weeks ago I would have blown off as, well, wearers of the tinfoil hat. Now, gawd help me, I’m looking for one that fits. That scares me deeply.

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