Jon, baby, I spoke too soon. Here I am, crying in my breakfast beer and despairing that a landslide victory for the Republican party in the House and Senate means the death of climate action, renewable energy, and our collective bright green future. (At the very least, we have two loooong years of “I’m not a scientist” prefacing the axe blow into the face of most of the issues we hold dear.)

But then you come along and cheer me up, like you always do, with this:

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Your Mitch McConnell turtle voice … SWOON. (I prefer it echoing under Holiday Inn Express sheets, but I’ll take it on network TV). Say it again, Jon. I’m sorry for not seeing your movie. I’ll go. I promise. I DO want you to express yourself in other mediums. I take back that awful, hateful “you’re no Kathryn Bigelow” thing I said when I packed my bags. And I love your beard, even when it scratches.

Grist thanks its sponsors. Become one.

And … OK. Let’s stay together for the kids. At least until Sunday at 11:15 ET.

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