Cometh The Donkey

It was a little over a year ago that I wrote about the complicated American system of electing their Presidents, and now, finally, the new PUSA is moving into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

As we bid farewell to Bush the second, we are standing on the brink of a world of hope, of promise, and of possibilities, and for all the money in Bill Gates' bank account I wouldn't want to be in Barack Obama's shoes.

Never before, and certainly never in my lifetime, has so much anticipation been place on the back of a humble Donkey (the Democratic mascot, you see) - the last time was perhaps when another such beast was ferrying a certain expectant mother to a stable in the Holy Lands.

From where I'm standing, Obama certainly has the right feel abut him, and he seeme to have the vision, the dream, and above all and most vital, the integrity to actually do what he says he will do.

The task ahead of him is a mighty tall order, with security threats and economic meltdown, but even if he doesn't manage to pull off his minor miracle, then the one thing I ask of Mrs Obama's little boy, is that no matter how bad it gets, how desperate the stakes become, and however much he might be tempted to stray to the dark side, as his predecessor did, all I want, and I suspect the American people do to, if for him to tell the truth.

That's it. Simple, no?

By doing this one simple thing, this new inaugurated Donkey will prove that he is no ass.