Sunday Four-Play: It's Chuck Todd's last day! And we're ridin' with Biden

We’re in that political silly season when too many Democrats bemoan their looming doom, nervous that their current standard-bearer (in this case President Joe Biden) is too damaged by unfair attacks—and the regular fusillade of GOP ratf*ckery—to perform the way an incumbent really should in the upcoming election.

And that’s fair. I get it. I’m as nervous as they come—and I worry constantly. About everything. I worry about killer asteroids wiping out civilization as we know it. I worry that humanity fled the planet on a giant space ark during Y2K, left behind 6 billion silicone dopplegängers, and no one bothered to tell me. When I eat nachos, I worry that the cheese and the chips won’t come out evenly. But most of all, I worry that we’ll see the mother of all October surprises and end up with four more years of Donald Trump. To get me to stop worrying about that, you’d pretty much have to boil my brain in bath salts, punt it into a flaming lard lagoon, and hook it back up with jumper cables and half a pack of poster putty.

But enough about Ben Carson’s proprietary surgical techniques. We have an election to win next year, and while it’s human (and especially Democratic) nature to worry, the best approach is to put our heads down, work hard, donate whatever crumbs we can, and understand that we have the inside track. Really.