My childhood was an idyllic one.
It was a simpler time.
A time in which we had little to worry about.
At least little to worry about past hearing that Mark-Paul Gosselaar dying in a car crash. Or Donnie or Jordan (or you can really pick your New Kid, I guess) going to the emergency room to have a gallon of semen pumped from their stomach--which was really just Rod Stewart updated for a new generation. Or Richard Gere going to the emergency room to get a dead gerbil lodged firmly in his ass. Or Marilyn Manson having a rib removed so he could fellate himself. Or Marilyn Manson being Paul from "The Wonder Years". There were a lot about Marilyn Manson, actually.
And these little things filled our lives with unimaginable joy. Or more precisely imaginative joy. Each time we heard something like Live being Satanic because their name spelled "Evil" backwards, we thought to ourselves, "Well, Ed Kowalcyk does have a shaved head, so I guess he could be evil..."
But once Al Gore's invention took the world by storm, all that speculation on the verity of such celebrity-centered urban legends was essentially killed. With the advent of the internet, we were suddenly cursed with the ability to check up on the truth to the rumors. In that regard, Al Gore ruined my life.
So on the eve of this election--eight years after our lives were to be changed for the worse with the "election" of George W. Bush--I find myself not wondering what could have been if Al Gore had never "lost" that "election" but yearning for the same feeling of shock when realizing that Zack Morris isn't dead upon seeing the teaser for "Dead Man on Campus".