7:50pm; Clichés. Overused phrases. Tossed about like a ship on tumultuous seas. True, though, true words. We, as a country, as a society, as a people, stand this eve on the cusp of a historic day. A quadrennial Christmas. The gifts come slowly. Tortuously. One can feel the momentous weight of the day as it marches across this country, enveloping everybody along the way. Regardless of political persuasion, knowledge or involvement. Things are going to change tonight. Sure, it can go one of two ways. Joltingly divergent ways. Irrevocable, irretrievable change. There's something in the air. The town, the city. A feeling. Like a holiday in that everyone's attention is focused around a single thing. A feeling of somber, sober anticipation. If things break one way then everything we have become accustomed to as predictors in these matters will be thrown deeply, deeply into question. Either that or, conversely, something is terrible, terrible flawed. Corrupted. Manipulated to the extreme. As in illegal. If things break the other a new day break tomorrow virtually unlike anything this country has seen.