A cautionary tale for John McCain

Watching McCain's descent into the cesspool in the dying days of his campaign, I am reminded of an old, tasteless joke:

An old Scotsman drinking in a bar says to the young man sitting beside him, "Look out to the field. Do ya see that fence? I built it stone by stone with me own two hands. Piled it for months. But do they call me McGregor-the-Fence-Builder? Nooo.."

He pats the bar. "See how smooth and just this bar is, laddy? I planed that wood with me own hard labour, for eight days. But do they call me McGregor-the-Bar-Builder? Nooo..."

He points to the sea. "Do ya see that pier that stretches as far as the eye can see? I built that pier with the sweat off me back. I nailed it board by board. But do they call me McGregor-the-Pier-Builder? Nooo..."

"But ya fuck one goat..."

John McCain has had a long and honorable career, earning him a great deal of deserved respect. Now that his quest to be president is tanking, he's chosen to cast aside those years of principled service and stoop to tactics that even Karl Rove has said are appalling.

He has no clue about the current economic fiasco, and can't get any traction talking about anything else, so he flings feces with a bitterness and rage that surprise even other Republicans. At his campaign appearances, the crowd mirror his anger at Obama, shouting the N-word, and screaming "Terrorist!" and "Kill him."

And McCain grins.

No wonder the undecided voters are inching away.

After he's lost, a lot of people won't remember those years of honorable service. They'll remember only the venom and ugliness of his campaign.

He's on his way to becoming McGregor-the-Goat-Fucker.