It rattles the dentures and sends a shiver up the spine of the unbeliever, such as I, to realize that, by the time this piffle is actually posted, the Coronation of Barack Hussein Obama will be less than a fortnight away. The ermine robes and scepter awaiting young Barack are already polished and ready, swathed in the finest purple velvet cloth (befitting a Caesar) in Denver and nothing but a sparse few days stand between he and The Anointing.

The little suspense that remains, to whit: who will be selected heir to the throne, is but little distraction to the breathless anticipation of The Grand Event. It matters not one ioda who will stand at the right hand of the Once and Future King. For, as in the case of all of America’s past second fiddles, the Vice-President-in-waiting will be along for the hayride only in the hope that he can deliver a few states to the Prince’s electoral coffers. If one begs an opinion of me as to just who the lucky silver-medal winner will be, I do have few guesses. First, it’s a safe bet that neither Hillary nor John Edwards, recently besmirched by Clinton’s Disease, will make the cut. To be safe, I would venture only that he destined to be plucked up to the rostrum will be a white male, 10 years or so The Prince’s elder. He will have a decent resume of past leadership (unlike the Prince’s limited accomplishments in government) and, possibly, of Southern lineage. On the other hand, since the South is heavily laced with black voters and may already be strongly enough in the young Prince’s column, BHO may cast his regal gaze elsewhere, confident in the Solid South. If he does, he can, I think, ignore the Northeast as there are quite enough liberals and Democrats (but I repeat myself) already ensconced there to keep his election juggernaut fueled and rolling. So, if not the South nor the Northeast, I am guessing the Dauphin will ride in from the Far West. If I had to throw out a name it would probably be Bill Richardson, the half-Hispanic Governor of New Mexico who has just the resume (Congressman, U.N. Ambassador, U.S. Secretary of Energy) to provide much-need ballast to the young Prince’s lack of experience.

Since the "Dream Ticket" of BHO + Hillary Roddam Clinton has been thoroughly flummoxed by ancient but still hemorrhaging wounds, the party faithful must look elsewhere for the young Prince’s harness mate. Of course, the Clintons (despite the rough and tumble of the primaries) will be front-and-center during the festivities in Denver. Her Majesty will speak (August 26^th) of bygones-as-bygones, "actually, what I meant to say" and the urgency of uniting to defeat a common enemy. All the time, as we all know, beneath her smile and bravado, she will still feel quite like a jilted bride. After being boisterously courted, wooed and acclaimed as the rightful successor by the Democratic Party and the liberatti for two years, she was ultimately left, ignominiously, at the Altar of Greatness. With recent events in her favor, perhaps she is contemplating suing for breach of promise? But, with a high cabinet post in the offing if she wishes, I trust legal proceedings will not be pursued. Hillary, can you say Secretary of State? Hillary, can you say "no" to Secretary of State?

And, lest we make the severest of oversights, we must consider the role of the dethroned but perpetual King, William Jefferson Clinton. Billy will surely be there (when has he ever avoided the spotlight?) and the glitz and glamour (surely a bit tarnished by the revelation that he, like we mere mortals, is also, is a racist) will be a highlight of the festivities. He too will speak (with or without cigar) of healing, uniting against the common enemy, the Democratic Party as the last best hope of mankind, blah blah blah. Though his days in the bright glare of partisan idol worship and his short reign as "the first black president" are long passed, he will (ultimately) be offered the U.N. Ambassadorship (in my opinion) which he will probably refuse. To accept would cause him to take a cut in pay which, for someone risen from the poor, is unthinkable. But, as the Prince graciously offered and was refused, the linkages between the Old Party and the New Party will be completely and irretrievably severed. And the Prince will be his own man, finally.

I suspect during both of the Clintons’ speeches, the young Prince will be comfortably sequestered in his hotel suite, Michelle and the girls at his side, and smiling the smile that only those who have conquered stronger foes and longer odds can smile. He will be content that he did what no one thought possible: he sank the political equivalent of the Titanic, not with an iceberg but with a rock from a slingshot. David of the Old Testament has nothing on our young Prince.

During this short run-up to the national celebration of diversity that will be the Democratic Convention, one cannot help but note some disquieting rumblings within the pundits of the party of destiny. The "in the know" Democratic insiders are croaking loudly which, usually, means there may actually be some chinks in the young Prince’s glistening armor. As I have noted before, this election should - given the mood of the booboisie in the hinterlands - be a shoo-in for the Dems. You have a lame duck President whose 8 year record has brought the country crisis after crisis and whose approval rating is as low as Harry Truman’s after firing MacArthur or Nixon’s after Watergate. "W" has fiddled while the American economy fell to 2^nd world status and the dollar has sunk to the level of the peso.While tragically sitting astride the fence between liberalism (immigration policy) and conservatism (national defense), GWB has cultivated confusion and animosity within the Great Mob. Familiarity, indeed, breeds contempt and that is what most of America holds for the Man from Crawford, Texas via Yale. The point is that any Democratic candidate should, at this late date, be cruising along with a double-digit lead over any Republican candidate simply as a matter of rebound. If the Democrats ran Estes Kefauver and George McGovern, they should be able to beat a republican ticket of the party’s all times greats - TDR and Lincoln - just off the vote of the disgruntled, angry Boobus americanus of who there are legions.

But, inexplicably, the Young Prince is, for all practical purposes, in a dead heat with the "wrinkly, white haired guy" the GOP have offered up for sacrifice. How can this be? Youth, brains, charisma (I would say "charisma in spades" but I would be accused of racial insensitivity) and frank idol-worship by the media versus a 72 year old Republican with a penchant for melanomas and singular heroism in a war Americans would like to forget but can’t. The natives in Fort Liberal are restless. Richard Cohen (no conservative, he) recently gave voice (or at least ink) to the very real worries of the liberatti. He said he would find it very difficult to point out one thing accomplished by the Young Prince that was worthy of awe or, even, praise. He said he could think of several for the wrinkly, white-haired guy. In brief, he bemoaned what he saw as the Young Prince’s penchant for flip-flopping. He wrote:

"He has been for and against gun control, against and for the recent domestic surveillance legislation and, in almost a single day, for a united Jerusalem under Israeli control and then, when apprised of U.S. policy and Palestinian chagrin, against it. He is an accomplished pol -- a statement of both admiration and a bit of regret."

And Cohen is not a lone wolf, howling his apprehension to an empty forest. (Question: If a liberal cries in the woods and no one hears him, does he make a sound?) Jennifer Rubin who surely does not work for FOX News and loves all things liberal, wrote this:

"We have never had a major candidate so close to the presidency who not only lacked a record of any note, but who seemed to have made an art form of not having one. It is extraordinary and deeply troubling."

Ouch!

Finally, there is this, from Dana Milbank, columnist for the Washington Post and, therefore, ipso facto, a liberal mouthpiece. He wrote a scathing commentary that dared to call the Young Prince the "presumptuous candidate" and that:

"As he marches toward Inauguration Day (Election Day is but a milestone on that path), Obama's biggest challenger may not be Republican John McCain but rather his own hubris."

A poll from Time Magazine’s Mark Halperin shows that most respondents think the race is tight because the Young Prince is too liberal for mainstream America (50%) rather than the race issue (28%). And it is certainly not because of the wrinkled, white-haired guy’s popularity which polled at about 4%.

Well, well, well!

Exactly what are we to make of this? Are the rats jumping ship? Hardly. Have the apostles of the Young Prince started to see that the proposed emperor has no clothes? Possibly. Or are these not-so-subtle messages to the Young Prince that "it ain’t over ‘til it’s over?" Surely. Remember the aforementioned Truman versus Dewey, 1948? Of course you don’t have the vaguest idea of that election day (I know this because it has not been mentioned on Fear Factor, Family Jewels, Big Brother, Flavor of Love or Living Lohan) but career political pundits do. Overconfidence in a political candidate is lethal to their chances with the clodhoppers. The dues-paying union man and the government job-holder would rather spend a day at work rather than vote for a cocky candidate. And the Young Prince, having felled Goliath nee Clinton, is (according to many observers) getting a little puffed-up.

These few complaints from the liberatti - they have hardly achieved choral volume - may be merely attempts to kick a little sand in the Prince’s face to toughen him up. He will surely need it for the final campaign stretch, September through November. The wrinkled, white-haired guy may be a entirely sacrificial - a bull with too many banderillas already in his hide (thanks to GW to fight well in the eyes of most. But I am not sure anyone has convinced the old Navy pilot and former POW of his true role in this election. He might actually have the energy to charge a few red capes before the boobs send him packing back to Arizona. He does not strike me as someone who will choose to go quietly into that good night.

The next three months will be a good circus. When the issues are as divisive as they are today and there is such discontent among the clodhoppers, the prospects are right for a typically American slugfest. It will, undoubtedly, get down to ear-pulling and eye-gouging though, up to now, the Prince and the wrinkled, white-haired guy have been acting more like running mates than mortal enemies. It won’t last, I assure you. Sooner or later, the gloves will be unlaced, the brace knuckles will be slipped on and the real campaigning will commence. For we happy few who know that, with all its hypocrisy, pompous declarations, larceny, chicanery and sheer buffoonery, there is no Big Top on earth that can compete with a Presidential election. Particularly when the plebiscites are angry and spoiling for a fight. The Prince and the wrinkled, white-haired guy are perfectly cast for the coming farce and I, for one, can’t wait for the show.

The curtain goes up August 25^th in Denver. Bring your popcorn and a six-pack of Red Bull. It will be the best show on earth.