There’s a sci-fi novel by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle, and Stephen Barnes called The Legacy of Heorot in which colonists on a new, Eden-esque planet complete with cute fish they dub samlon, are confronted with a hellish alien monster which is ultra-deadly and nearly impossible to kill. But they do manage to kill it finally in a heated battle. It’s only after they kill it that they realize that the samlon it had been eating and which are now in a population explosion are actually the same creature in an earlier stage of life. In short, they have just removed the one thing keeping the population of the monsters in check. Thus begins the all out war between the colonists and an army of these creatures.

That initial monster is the Curse of the Bambino.

By breaking the curse, the Red Sox humiliated the dreaded Yankees and won the World Series. And Red Sox nation rejoiced.

But now we see that the Red Sox, in keeping the curse intact, were protecting us from something much more sinister, something far more evil. And now that evil has been unleashed.

First, the Patriots lose. Then Kerry loses. It’s only going to get worse.

OK, melodrama aside, I’m pretty bummed about things right now. I won’t go into liberal navel-gazing except to say that it is clear that as much as the Red Sox needed to play the game like the Yankees to actually beat them (that is, buy all the best players it could get) so, too, the left needs to start playing the political game the way the right does: they have to get nasty. And that’s just sad.

What’s next? As Ashleigh Brilliant said, “Sit back and enjoy the crisis.”


There’s been a steady mist since we left Virginia. Wet weather in autumn does wonderful things to the already-gorgeous foliage: the tree trunks turn a dark color and the striking colors of the changing leaves are that much more vibrant and breath-taking. The further north we drove, the better it got. Route 15 up through Gettysburg, PA, I-78 across to NJ, I-287 up into New York, the Sall Mill Parkway in Westchester, the Merritt Parkway through CT and finally, I-95 into RI. The colors have been amazing. The cloudy skies, gentle rain, and faint fog have all amplified the effect.

Combine that with this regional elation. I had a Red Sox moment the day after the Sox won the World Series on the Metro in Washington where me in my Sox cap caught the eye of another guy in his Sox cap. We shared a smile and a nod. Multiply that by a billion and you don’t even scratch what it is like up here. Everyone has their Red Sox gear on and everyone is congratulating everyone else. People are practically beaming here. We’ve all died and gone to Red-Sox-Won-The-World-Series-Look-At-The-Foliage-Did-You-See-The-Parade-Have-Some-Pumpkin-Pie heaven.

Though, my favorite moment was the dirty looks I got wearing my Red Sox cap in the Starbucks in Ardsley, NY this morning. Now they know what it feels like to be a Red Sox fan. Rather, they know what it used to feel like to be a Red Sox fan. I’m going to ride this high for awhile and it feels great. My father-in-law is still walking around in a daze. I’ve never seen him so happy. We bought him a Red Sox World Champions hat today and I don’t think he’s taken if off yet.

Yes, right now, this place and time, this is heaven.