I'm you, dear readers. Well, actually, I'm not. But I'm also not a witch, so at least I've got that going for me.
The above is of course a reference to Delaware's favourite Wiccan of Wilmington, Republican Senate nominee Christine O'Donnell, who began her most recent television advertisement by assuring viewers that she, indeed, is "not a witch." In past political years this might have been considered a bit low-brow, to actually have to assure the voting public you didn't spend most days at dusk swooping over the heads of the Lollipop Guild.
The bar has been raised among this year's crop of weirdos and wackadoos seeking higher office in America. If you don't have the Second Amendment tattooed on your buttocks or actually think you're The Walrus, don't even try and claim to be among the craziest third of aspiring politicos on the current American landscape.
Jay Leno may have once called politics "show business for ugly people." But the larger truth these days is that a run for political office is a surefire way for those seeking a moment in the spotlight, but lacking any discernible talent or a handle on the truth, to have their hour in the headlines. It's show business for crazy people.
Let's take two brief examples. First, we have Republican gubernatorial candidate Carl Paladino in New York, whose fits of fury and chest-thumping bravado makes Jimmy Hoffa seem like Boy George.