In honor of Hizzoner DeBlasio becoming the first new mayor in 12 years, I give you this piece from 2008 about the election.

Let's raise our 64-ounce sodas on high once more for the Former Mayor, Mr. What's-his-name. 
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This column was originally intended to be the second part of a two-part, highly investigative journalistic series called “The Joys of Moving.” Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, such as none of us being able to get through breakfast without hearing the words “change, maverick,” or “reach across the aisle”, this will be a one-part, yet equally highly-investigative journalistic series called “The Joys of Politics.”

But before dancing down that dirty and dusty trail, I offer this to all of you readers desperate to know what happened next on my moving adventure. You know that part at the end of ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ where they use a forklift to move the box with the Ark into a giant U.S. warehouse that goes on and on and probably doesn’t stop until it reaches Asia?

That’s what my apartment looks like. Minus the forklift. My grand plan is to dig myself out of it, but it’s far more likely that those boxes will remain packed until the next time I move.

But enough about that. Let’s talk about politics.

This is an important Presidential election year, and if you don’t know that by now, I hereby renounce your right to vote. And if you think I don’t have the power to do that, please read on.

This piece came out after the Large Hadron Collider came online for the first time . . . and then blew a fuse and was offline again for a long time. Having visited the RHIC in Brookhaven recently, I thought it appropriate to revisit.
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Well, Armageddon seems to be at hand, but it wasn’t caused by the Large Hadron Collider in Europe, as predicted. Apparently, the Large Hadron Collider worked wonderfully for all of an hour before it blew up and became inoperable until next spring.

But fear not, end-of-days-junkies. We still have the largest collapse of a bank ever in the history of the United States (mine, as it happens), a firesale of another asset firm, and the inability of the nation’s top money minds to solve this whole mess. As the failed bank would say, Who-hoo!
As if all of that weren’t bad enough, I’ve just been through my own personal Seventh Circle of Hell: I just moved.