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So it’s finally over with, it was tedious, long drawn out and frustrating, but finally, after 54 primaries and Caucuses and approximately 300 years, Merca has finally recognised that African Americans are not actually dogs. Or at least some of it has.

The torch of liberty, hope and change extinguished by Lee Harvey Odwald on November 22nd, 1963 when John F. Kennedy didn’t think driving around in Dallas in a convertible was a bad idea, has now been reignited.

It was an historic moment. Oh how a tear came to my eye. Adolescent rebellious America who ran away from us all those years ago, finally came of age. The moment may not have been lost on Hillary Clinton, but she didn’t seem to share her nations collective sense of hope, promise and ideological reincarnation.

Instead she chose to focus on her own campaign and flatly refuse to concede defeat. In fact, if you’d been away for the past five months you’d have assumed she had won. Bless her. It reminded me of the last time Frank Bruno fought Mike Tyson. He didn’t concede defeat either.

Even after being knocked unconscious by Iron Mike, big Frank still had optimism enough back in the dressing room when they revived him to ask his manager sincerely if he had won the bout. No Frank, you didn’t. In fact we didn’t think you were going to make it there for a second.

Right now, as we speak, Hillary’s corner men are towelling her down and wafting smelling salts under her nose and wracking their brains, desperately searching for a way to make her see sense and accept defeat.

Hillary and Bill once sat down on a weekend and drew up a plan of attack that would see them both elected as President. It was their life’s work and all of Bill’s affairs and incidents involving almost every woman in the North West who ever came near the White House were swept away because of it; Hillary was prepared to subordinate her rights and dignity as a wife if it meant her ultimate ambition to rule the world would come to fruition later.

How hard it must now be for her to accept that it has turned sour. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, the taste in her mouth must be worse than if she had just sucked on Bill’s cigar in the first place and I mean that both literally and euphemistically. Bill on the other hand, must be cacking himself. He got away with so much shit, but now the bigger picture no longer protects his over active loins, he may just lose them.

Of course now, as historic as last night may have been. Barack Obama still needs to get elected for it to really mean anything. Fortunately John McCain is defying the medical profession just by being alive. If he even lasts the next five months without something serious occurring within him it’ll be a miracle.

His medical records for the past few years were recently made accessible to the media. They were 1,200 pages long! He’s got almost everything wrong with him. Only breasts cancer and the menopause were missing from his medical history.

He’s also a crazy man and it really ought to be a horrorshow of embarrassing fuck ups watching him campaign. If just once he forgets to take his Nam rage pills, it ought to be compelling viewing. I fear to watch, yet I cannot turn away. Even if you’re completely disenfranchised by politics, it’ll be worth watching. It’ll be like one of those 'You’ve been framed' shows.

At the end of it though, once Barack Obama has manoeuvred his way through the baffling maize of media contradictions (the most nonsensical being the one which accuses him of being elitist, yet also criticises his lack of experience) and the completely lacking in any sense of perspective – out of context ‘controversies’ the America media like to focus on (particularly the one concerning his Pastor he had to abandon, while still fighting off accusations of being a Muslim) when we get to the end he ought to find himself driving up Pennsylvania Avenue next January, probably not in a convertible though.