The Big Dirt Nap Lottery.

Before Jim Jeffords jumped ship, our sister progressive magazine, The Nation, had a great cover caricature of the orange-hued, Chia-haired Strom Thurmond. The accompanying article, "Strom Watch," eagerly anticipated his demise so that the Democrats could take over the Senate. The article began with a few tortured, apologetic sentences on the unseemliness of the death watch. I ran the article through my home metal detector for any traces of irony, and the needle barely shivered. There was no mention of the unseemliness of the death of democracy, just the reliance on the Grim Reaper with his big Term Limits in the Sky.

But, alas, Jeffords beat the clock.

With this Administration, which I have begun to think of more as a murder-suicide pact with the citizenry, all bets are off on the seemliness scale. The sheer vulgarity of its intergalactic arrogance--under the guise of dress codes, trains running on time, and father-knows-bestness--has raised an equal and opposite reckless incivility in me. It's my new faith and the fundament of my, fingers crossed, soon to be federally funded church.

However, until we get those funds (and believe me, the paperwork is a killer), I've got a great idea for a fundraiser. No mere Uno Homo Morto speculation for us! It's The Big Dirt Nap Lottery! Send a tax-deductible check made out to "The Kate Clinton Enough Already with the Bispartisanshit Church" for ten dollars--more, if you really want us to pay attention--and put the following in order of their deaths: Dick Cheney, the Pope, Strom Thurmond, Jesse Helms, and Yogi Berra.

If enough people participate, the returns will be grand, and by the time we know the results, you're going to need the money, despite that big inverted pyramid scam, I mean, tax cut. I got a $2.16 rebate!

They really are the party of change.

Here are some tips, in no particular order, to help you in your particular order.

The Pope. Although he recently starred in Greece (but who hasn't at this point? Can't wait to see him in The Vagina Monologues) and apologized for the Fourth Crusade, there was no papal word on the First through Third. Nor a peep about the current, ongoing anti-gay crusade. The Fourth Crusade was 800 years ago, and I am sleeping better because of that apology. The Pontiff should watch out, though. The College of Cardinals just met in Rome, and that's like having Dr. Kevorkian pay you a hospital visit.

Dick Cheney. Wouldn't you love to have his health care? He's amazing! What energy crisis? Only thing he's missing is the pink bunny suit and the little tin drum. He's the Czar of Everything, which makes me suspect he was cloned during some hospitalization. Or the Disney Animatronics people paid a late night visit. Get out your pushpins, it's going to be a tough call.

Strom Thurmond. That orange dye must be laced with some Ponce de Leon anti-aging formula, and Willard Scott is chomping at the bit. Barely coherent, Thurmond still believes in deterrence, however: He keeps deterring women from the Senate. If the grand prize at the end of your Senatorial campaign, election, and swearing-in is a big hug and slobbering kiss from that old states'-rights coot, you might reconsider and just run for the real power position, head of your local elections commission.

Jesse Helms. All bets are off. He's got a new rig and maybe a new understanding of disability access in the Senate, but his batteries are way charged. He even went to Mexico. Oil of Ole! My grandma often said that there are some people just too mean to die.

Yogi Berra. God forbid Yogi dies. George W. would be devastated. His proudest achievement in office was issuing an executive order to bring the people's sport to the White House backyard. As a boy, little Georgie dreamed of one day becoming Commissioner of Baseball. Our S.U.P. (Sport Utility President) seems to be using his office as a stepping stone to that field of dreams.

The Irreverend Kate Clinton is a faith-based humorist.