I feel my cheeks burning as I write this. This is probably like what a woman feels when she first senses in her the pulse of a new little person, still tiny and blind. It's me, and at the same time it's not me. And for long months to come she will have to nourish it with her own juice, her own blood, and then--tear it painfully out of herself and lay it at the feet of OneState.
But I am ready. Like all of us, or nearly all of us. I am ready.