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" When I was a younger man, Canadians of a certain perverted stripe \u2014 me, mostly \u2014 made it a habit to head down to Windsor on Devil&amp;#039;s Night, set up camp along the river, and watch Detroit set itself on fire. During Detroit&amp;#039;s most desperate years, hundreds and hundreds of fires would light up the horizon. It was a weirdly beautiful display, that artificial sunset, but of course a terrible idea lay behind it: that people might express their dissatisfaction with their circumstance by making it much, much worse. Now I can&amp;#039;t help feeling that Detroit&amp;#039;s penchant for self-immolation \u2014 all those fires reflected in the water \u2014 has spread to the rest of the country. It can seem, from here, from the other side of the river, as though America has lost all sense of reason, as though it&amp;#039;s decided to fight crazy with more crazy. From the outside looking in, it&amp;#039;s hard to understand how a pair of fake newsmen could hold a rally in Washington, D.C., last weekend and see nearly 300,000 people show up. And that fake rally followed an even faker newsman playing his own thousands-strong game of make believe.  When, exactly, did America cede its political discourse to men pretending to be other men who pretend to know what you should think? I made a vow that My Second Empire would be a blog that included talk of politics, because nothing makes me feel more pessimistic about the beautiful country that has given me so much, including a job that lets me do things like talk to astronauts and ride bumper cars with Naomi Watts. But I feel as though it&amp;#039;s my duty as a loyal friend and admirer of a once proud nation to offer up a little straight talk, now that John McCain has given up that ghost for some seriously psycho bullshit. (I blame McCain, by the way, for much of this. I spent two years following him around before the last election, his own downward spiral forecasting his country&amp;#039;s. He started out as a voice of thoughtfulness and wisdom, soon became a noble dissenter, then a man without a home, and then a reckless gambler. And then, finally, late one terrible night, John McCain decided to become an arsonist, and he lit the first match.) My American friends, the rest of the world is watching you right now in the hours before you throw out these particular bums and replace them with the bums you threw out only two years ago, only a more bummy version of those self-same two-year-old bums, and we&amp;#039;re all whispering the same thing to each other: They&amp;#039;ve gone fucking nuts. And believe it or not, Canadians \u2014 for so many years the continental punch line, we sober-minded hosers with our rigid banking system and socialized medicine \u2014 have not been watching America set fire to itself with any sense of smugness. (Okay, so maybe there&amp;#039;s been a little smugness.) We&amp;#039;ve been watching America with wonder and sadness and fear. Because as much as the rest of the world might have grown tired of your occasional bully act, of the arrogance of your Olympic sprinters and your dedication to strangeness like the Imperial gallon, the idea of a world without America \u2014 or without a sane America, at least \u2014 is much more terrifying. Yes, this election seems a foregone conclusion. For the next two years, perhaps inevitably, there will be more division and yelling and rallies. In the face of seemingly insurmountable problems, scared people sometimes make inexplicable choices. Sometimes they decide to burn down the house next door. But even in desperate, crazy Detroit, they finally decided they&amp;#039;d had enough of Devil&amp;#039;s Night. Eventually, they declared it Angels&amp;#039; Night instead. Politicians mobilized. Curfews were put in place. Thousands of citizens began to patrol their own streets. The fires weren&amp;#039;t over \u2014 some people are born arsonists, and all the angels in the world won&amp;#039;t fix them \u2014 but the worst of them was over. The next two years will not be easy, America. But I hope, sincerely, after the smoke clears, that they will also help you realize that you&amp;#039;re the same country that found yourself on the moon. I hope you&amp;#039;ll wake up one morning and remember that you remain a country of magicians. There&amp;#039;s a dream factory in California where they&amp;#039;re making giant robot dinosaurs, for chrissakes, and if you can make giant robot dinosaurs, you can pretty much do anything you want to do. There are still plenty of dream factories in America. There are still places where America remains optimistic. There are still pockets of hope. There&amp;#039;s still love. Sometimes all it takes is a little distance to see them. READ MORE OF MY SECOND EMPIRE &amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;gt; PLUS: Complete Campaign Coverage on The Politics Blog &amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;gt; "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a8831/americas-image-in-the-world-2010/>