Drink to me only with thine eyes!

What the hell happened to Joe Lieberman?

How do you go from being the Democratic Vice Presidential nominee eight years ago to being John McCain's lapdog today? Perhaps a nocturnal visit from Nosferatu Bush . . . oh, the fangs, the blood, the foul and deadly bacterial venom . . . worse than the bite of the Komodo Dragon. That might have done it. I can think of nothing else powerful enough to make the transformation.

Except LOVE. Yes, that could be it. I heard McCain giving an interview the other evening: "Joe is a wonderful, warm man. So warm, so wonderful. The other evening, I asked Joe if he would be there for me. He rolled over, looked deep into my eyes, and said, 'John, I would bend over forward for you . . . you just ask . . . and I will deliver. Or you can deliver. Or we can take turns delivering.' That's the kind of guy Joe is," McCain continued, "a real stand-up guy. Unless you want him to kneel or lie down . . . or roll over and pant."

Yes, love. That could be it.

The Ice Princess cometh

Cindy McCain . . . the Ice Princess. Dare to look into that laser vision, and you will be flash-frozen and summarily shattered into a billion jagged pieces of crystalline shards.

The Ice Princess' frigid stare will transform the lava from Hawaiian volcanoes into glaciers. This could be good news for the polar bears . . . the one potential positive in a vast ocean of Republican negatives for the environment.

The Ice Princess, shielded from reality by mind-boggling billions of U.S. dollars, shielding the old man too . . . the android former "maverick" who sold his soul to the devil on a convention stage in 2004, and sealed the deal with a kiss. Did he and Bush the Devil lock tongues? Was the Devil's forked tongue plunged down the old man's throat, piercing his ancient larnyx and infecting it with extreme right-wing orthodoxy?

Ask the trophy . . . the silent Ice Princess. She will not tell. She will only stare, her ice-hot laser vision surgically severing your carotid artery.