The Phoenix rose from the ashes, but Jesse Kelly didn't.

I have been in mourning, but there has been no good reason for it. That is often the case, is it not?

Here, in Minnesota, we do not actually live in Michele Bachmann's Congressional district, but we feel, nevertheless, that she is one of us. She is ours. Our Belle, Michele!

And we are moving to Arizona, where she is only a rumor, a phantasm, a very attractive, mean-mouthed, gaffe machine of the Tea Party kind. But I should not have despaired so quickly.

We are moving into the Congressional district represented by Gabby Giffords until yesterday. Yesterday, there was an election to choose someone to fill out her unexpired term. She, as you recall, is the person, along with a little girl, and several other people, who was shot by a lunatic with a thirty-shot magazine (or something like that). In her last election, she barely nosed out Jesse Kelly, who ran for the seat again, against Giffords' former aide, Ron Barber.

Yesterday, Ron Barber handily beat Jesse Kelly; something like 52% to 45%. All the votes are not yet tallied, but Kelly conceded.

"This stinks!", he said to a reporter. And then he thanked Jesus, his family, and his volunteers. He said he was going home to bed. The fabled Phoenix rose from the ashes, but Jesse Kelly didn't: he went home to bed.

"This stinks! Thank you, Jesus!"

I am looking forward with newfound anticipation.

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