Are we no longer there yet?

Contrary to the hopes and prayers of Matt Drudge and the Wall Street Urinal's Bernard Lewis (and, sometimes, my own self, but for different reasons), the world was not destroyed yesterday by Iranian Preznit Ahmedashanananashananananashanananashananananashana-
nanashananananashanananasshananananayipyipyipyipyipyipyipyip-
mummummummummummumgetajob.

Allegedly, yesterday was to be the day on which the "Hidden Imam" (al-Waldo) returned from his trip to the corner store for cigarettes or wherever he went centuries ago and started some kind of Penalty Kick Phase of global history involving such well-loved characters as Gog and Magog, and not to mention ZOG, Kermit the Frog, and Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs. All wearing beer goggles, no doubt. And jogging togs. Drinking out-of-season egg nog and pausing from reading their favorite blogs, all the world's peoples would stand agog -- bug-eyed -- in a fog. "We did our best to shut them out and banish them to a vague netherworld," an ecumenical council of religious elders would exclaim, "but they tricked us by claiming to be a plumber here to fix a clog." I personally was hoping they'd at least settle the argument once and for all -- what sounds better, digital or analog?

But nothing. Not even a Chapstick-related air travel delay.

Well, the Tigers did shut out the White Sox, beating them for the second time in a row. So it wasn't such a great day after all. Prophesy fulfilled!