The Democratic Primary is Decadent and Depraved

It is an overused metaphor in the world of political reporting: the horse race. This is the numbers game, the poll-surfing and guessing that fuels the excitement behind candidates numerical progress.

The horse race sweeps fundamental issues aside in favor of long conversations about, say, how the Reverend Jeremiah Wright controversy is tilting the numbers among white males over 50. Its like the game at the carnival where you shoot the water in the clowns mouth to blow up a balloon: sure, theres a winner every time, but what exactly are we doing here?

This election season has exposed a flaw in the metaphor: Horse races are exciting because they are quick and decisive. There are no horse marathons. Yet four months after Super Tuesday, we are exhausted, disgusted and find ourselves looking to places like Guam for salvation.

In fact, the same day that Chamorros cast their vote for Barack Obama, Americas attention was instead focused on the biggest day in thoroughbred history: the famously decadent and depraved Kentucky Derby. If you missed it, let me offer a brief and heartless synopsis: the favored horse won and the second place horse--Eight Belles--broke both of her ankles and was quickly euthanized, right there on the track.

In 134 years of running the derby, a filly a female horse has won only three times.

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