While the census reports are still being processed through Hugo Chavez’s voting machines, somewhere around 331 million people—give or take a couple dozen coming over the wall or fleeing our politics to move to Canada—live in this country. That’s about 150 million more than in 1960, the first time my mom was a census taker. And as near as I can figure, every danged one of that additional 150 million is crazy as a June bug.

Now I will admit I’m probably not the right guy to be passing judgment on mental health questions. It’s been suggested more than once that I’m pretty much going through life a few degrees off of true north, myself.