One drawback to having many interests is the sense of always sampling, but never really eating a full meal -- just wandering around in circles with a tiny appetizer plate that would struggle to accommodate half a grapefruit, looking for odds and ends and bonus grazing spots, trying to avoid being stuffed full of any one thing.
Only rarely does the thought emerge, "You know, I'd like to take a very long time out and not check the news for the next year or two." That's tantamount to treason for the inquisitive, right up there with the infamous "to be or not to be" question. Curiosity -- the hunger to know -- demands sating, even if one has been packed to the gills and overfed on a dish or two.
To paraphrase an ancient joke: "Take politics and religion -- please!" Especially the combo platter on those. Tow them away, if you don't mind. Thing is, it's a reach to November 6 -- now more a battered low crawl than a sprint down the ol' home stretch. The urge to grasp is much reduced.
So, politics remains on the menu -- and then, on the 7th, the whole shebang starts up again for the 2016 circus, of course, in the undying search and hope for power, here in the land of the eternal flame and the everlasting campaign.
Religion will likely not jump off the stove and cool down, but keep playing footsie with positioning -- front or back burner, skipping side to side, playing with the heat controls. Religion has yet to be silent on anything, not for more than eleven seconds at any given time, not in all of human history. Not likely to start now.
And, for unhinged glory, there's nothing quite like that marriage made in heaven of the two, politics and religion -- the most unfortunate, if not unlikely, bedfellows one might encounter in this-here bed 'n' breakfast, The Deranged Inn of the Daft.