Go Read Dana Milbank on McCain's train-wreck last few days of desperation campaigning. Here's the last few paragraphs:
Roswell, N.M., 5:56 p.m.
The door to McCain's aircraft swings open and the crowd cheers -- but there are no stairs for the candidate; he cools his heels while they bring the stairs over from the rear door. The Roswell airport is a questionable spot for a rally: It's a graveyard for old airplanes, and the hulking carcasses of dead aircraft serve as a backdrop for McCain's appearance. A mirrored ball spins above the crowd, giving the hangar a disco feel.
Naturally, the microphones fail as soon as McCain begins to talk -- "courtesy of the Democratic National Committee," he quips for the third time.
There are barely more live people at the rally -- 750 -- than dead airplanes on the tarmac. But McCain will take support wherever he can get it. "I'm pleased to announce that I have received the alien endorsement," he says, "and I'm proud."
Maybe Pepe el Extraterrestre delivered the endorsement in person.
No doubt. I've been to Roswell. Heh.
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