I'm Totally Rooting for Blago at This Point

I know that rooting for Blago is like rooting for Gargamel to find Smurf Village. I'm not proud of my Blago fandom; I'm a prisoner of it.
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I hate to admit it: At this point I'm totally rooting for Rod Blagojevich. I want him to beat all charges. I want him to somehow stay in office until his term is up, and then I want him to get reelected by a questionable 225 votes in 2010. And then I want him to put on a too-small red Karate gi, jump aboard the shimmering two-horned unicorn he's got tied out back, and I want him to hunt down the Illinois Attorney General in an endless field of wheat so that we can continue this wacky palm-to-forehead story of American politics at its worst.

Perhaps I'm just bored, or perhaps it's because my name is still on the waiting list for a converter box coupon for my perfectly fine 1996 television and I'm about to lose "free" television, but I think this Rod Blagojevich scandal has been a really fun ride to be on. Yes, it was shameful and embarrassing in the beginning, but now it's like a Mike Tyson-meets-Tom Sizemore trainwreck that gets and uglier every week. Before my television goes to snow, I'd like to get in as much of this as possible.

This week the governor is going on a media blitz to remind everyone that he's innocent until proven guilty, and that he's kind of like Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi. All rolled into one.

I'm not exactly proud of myself for cheering for someone up for impeachment, especially when it looks like he deserves it. I'm not proud of my hand wringing, smirks or laughter when I see that his official title remains under him on the news. The entertainment value alone is my guilty pleasure, but it could be that I'm also rooting for him because of the sheer size of his kahones that he's showing through all this, and be because he's my neighbor and I enjoy watching him run awkwardly and freely down our street.

And I know that rooting for Blago is like rooting for Gargamel to find Smurf Village. Or like hoping that your 10-year-old son discovers a cache of methamphetamine surrounded by Bic lighters and bottle rockets. I'm not proud of my Blago fandom; I'm a prisoner of it.

There's just something about rooting for the underdog, right? Even if that underdog is my corrupt governor with an ego the size of the national deficit.

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