he Tuesday polls have closed, the ballots are still being counted, but estimates make the outcome clear: California has lost the recall election.

California voters turned out in record, ignorant numbers Oct. 7 to make their confused voices heard, and the answer was a resounding, "What's this all about again?" As voters chose to recall Gov. Gray Davis, elected only 11 months earlier, and replace him with female-violating, Hitler-loving pure beef slab Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Not that a truly inept politician can't ruin an entire political system in less than a year. The current president only needed 9 months before the world as we knew it fell into a shitcan. And Gray Davis, described by friends as "a necessary evil," probably deserved a good pink-slipping. But to replace the deviously crafty with the hopelessly out-of-their-league, a trend already set at the presidential level, left California in the position of the biggest loser in the U.S.

Early estimates show the recall winning by 55%, with Schwarzenegger leading the recall candidates by a sizable margin. Among the opponents not just doing it for shits and giggles, Lt. Gov. "Tom" Cruz Bustamente, Sen. Tom McClintock, apparently not the character from the John Wayne movie of the same name, and a Green Party candidate who pushed a referendum where new ballots were cast with hemp. Schwarzenegger's 7,000+ votes over the next nearest candidate was called "overwhelming" by some overly-excited reporters. After all, here is a difficult foreign name they already know how to pronounce.

McClintock conceded happily to his fellow plus-sized Republican, calling it a "great day for California."

"In response to a common danger, the people of California rose to their duties and ordered a new direction for our state," said the well-rehearsed GOP mouthpiece. The message on that direction couldn't be less clear: We want the dumbest, most sexually-excitable candidate who runs a chain of failed over-hyped restaurants to do for us what he did for The Last Action Hero.

The white media, plagued with their fascination with celebrity, lauded the Schwarzenegger victory in many subtle ways, some calling it a "Hollywood ending." Leaving one compelled to remind reporters Dr. Strangelove and Taxi Driver had Hollywood endings, too.

Exit polls showed many voters disappointed with the failure of Gray Davis to mend California's budget problems during his 11 months in office. "It's not like the whole country's in a recession here," said one angry voter, drooling on this reporter's tape recorder.

The results of the California recall do little to surprise most pollsters, who predicted the election weeks in advance with their preemptive announcement of recall results beforehand. When asked what features they were looking for in a state governor, most Californians cited a vague understanding of the problems afflicting the state, poor pronunciation of English, and having appeared in at least one horrible Batman movie.

In a concession speech, Gray Davis called for everyone to "get behind" the governor-elect. What Davis neglected to add, but surely was thinking, was either that, 1, you could then proceed to push him off a cliff and into the Pacific Ocean, or 2, he's a big guy and you'll need the shade when the air conditioning dies after every power grid goes out, you fickle yellow-bellied traitors.

Schwarzenegger's new lieutenant governor, a bronze bust of former president Ronald Reagan, could not be reached for comment, as it's incapable of speech.

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Here's the facts, folks: I did not, nor have I ever tried the Waffle Messiah.

Any implication that I did try the Waffle Messiah, or in any way endorsed the Waffle Messiah or purchase of that kitchen appliance, was unintended.

I did not at any time mean to encourage that someone should actually purchase the Waffle Messiah or that it would be a welcome addition to any kitchen. When I made the statement during the infomercial that "it would make a welcome addition to any kitchen," I was, in fact, referring to a Mr. Coffee machine though I had made no previous reference to it. The fact that I was standing in close proximity to the Waffle Messiah and gesturing in what some could consider to be the direction of the Waffle Messiah that lay on the counter in front of me was purely accidental. Just a bad camera angle as I was actually gesturing in the direction of the restrooms off-camera, where I was planning to go once the taping of the infomercial was done.

The following statements I did say were intended to refer to the Waffle Messiah:

"It cooks so fast!"
"How much is that thing?"
"You can't get a waffle iron for less."
"Does that mean it's healthier?"
"And we'll tell you how to get one by calling this number."
"It's white!"
"Classic design."

The following statements may have been misconstrued to refer to the Waffle Messiah when in fact they were referring to Mr. Coffee, my co-host of the program Brad Winchell, or something I was thinking about in my mind:

"Makes 'em delicious!"
"I'm convinced!"
"Grease-free cooking!"
"And it's 100% safe!"
"I'd buy one!"
"I love it, Brad!"
"Sure makes you think."
"Classic design."
"Order one now."

I do not claim complete innocence in the recent Waffle Messiah fiasco. In fact, I allowed the production and multiple airings of an infomercial that intentionally misled the viewer to believe I, Clarissa Coleman, beloved celebrity and former star of Who's Your Daddy?, in some way supported or encouraged the buying of the dangerous Waffle Messiah product. My heart goes out to all those kids in the burn ward and I pray, metaphorically, for their quick recovery.

In the meantime I encourage anyone feeling down about the whole thing to go out there and pick up Time-Life's 70's Groove-A-Funk Collection featuring all your favorite hits, though I should clarify that when I say "all your favorite hits," I in fact have no way of knowing what your favorite hits are and the phrase refers to generally favored songs of the 70's era.

Caveat emptor.

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The history of the light bulb is a story of intrigue, espionage and a steamy love triangle gone bad. Unfortunately, that story has been optioned by ABC for a miniseries this fall, so we're going to have to stick to the afterschool special version.

Thomas "Cotton Gin" Edison was a rootin', tootin' six-gun-shootin' eccentric from the crusty butt-crack enclave of Battle Mountain, Nevada. Some may remember the town as the site of Evel Knievel's ill-fated final stunt, when he attempted to jump over the moon in 1983. The crater remains a popular tourist attraction and the center of Battle Mountain social life to this day.

The Battle Mountain of Edison's day was a quieter berg, nestled into Nevada's scenic dirt basin and known to cartographers nationwide as the flattest place in all of the United States. Early settlers exercised a healthy sense of irony in naming a town so flat that twelve people are killed every year by tumbleweeds hauling ass through town.

Little did they know that Battle Mountain would eventually live up to the "battle" part of it's name, when the construction of two dueling gas stations across the street from each other on Mountain Pass Road would mark the beginning of the constant bottle rocket wars across the road that have continued to this day. These skirmishes gave birth to the popular Battle Mountain Eye Patch fashion statement, worn by most adult residents of the town, all of whom had been blinded by bottle rockets. Few visitors to the town last more than a day unless they infer from the shrapnel-strewn storefronts that it might be best to gas up after dark.

But contrary to popular belief, the gas stations weren't the only two buildings in Battle Mountain in Edison's day. The town also featured three houses, a tool shed and a doghouse. The houses belonged to the Edisons, the Turnbuckles, and the Edisons' other neighbors who nobody ever bothered to talk to. The doghouse belonged to the town dog, Ruffles McGinty. Thomas Alvin Edison was born into this bustling metropolis in 1851, and soon made a name for himself as the only kid in town.

Throughout his childhood, Edison was mercilessly teased by the townfolk for his childlike size and pathetic vertical leap. The townsfolk consisted of Mr. Turnbuckle, who ran the Western Gas Station, and the father of the other neighbor family, who ran the Eastern Gas Station. Most of their attention was devoted to the bottle rocket war, but the one thing they could see bandaged eye to eye-patched-eye on was teasing Thomas Edison about his vertical leap.

The alienation and bitter obsessions fostered in Edison's childhood were to serve him well later in life, as he grew into a fine inventor. That's what his mom told him anyway, most of the rest of the town just made fun of him for inventing things that had already been invented, like the derby hat and the shovel.

At the age of eighteen, Edison swallowed his fears and made the move to the big city: nearby Battle Lake, Nevada, a dusty, arid stretch of scraggly, sun-baked land with the population of a little-league baseball team. There he would finally be able to pursue his scientific interests free of the closed-minded milieu and stifling mental environment of small-town Battle Mountain.

Edison blossomed in Battle Lake, spending his days yelling at clouds, digging holes in random parts of town and inventing in his spare time, taking credit for the invention of the marshmallow, the frying pan and nighttime.

As a sister invention to go along with nighttime, Edison decided to invent the light bulb, so he could practice his vertical leap when it was dark. Early attempts at catching lightning bugs in a jar proved effective, but short-lived. After two years of effort, Edison refined his light bulb to consist of an electrical current running through a fishbowl, but found it difficult to develop a filament that could sustain the current for more than a few seconds.

Edison tried anything and everything in his search for a perfect filament, including copper, gold, goldfish, grass, paper, mud, sand, string, underwear, hot dogs, a horned toad, Popsicle sticks, his finger and a neighborhood kid's big toe. After months of experiments, Edison discovered that bamboo coated in carbon worked the best, and he had one last laugh at the neighborhood kids who had told him you couldn't smoke bamboo. His new filament was groundbreaking, and the Edison light bulb burned for a remarkable four minutes before catching the wall socket on fire.

What few people today know, however, is that some English guys had already invented the light bulb fifty years earlier; the innovation just hadn't made it to Battle Mountain yet. After a brief stint as a local hero, Edison tried to take his invention to the patent office in Reno. He was promptly laughed the hell out of town, pantsed and ridiculed for his modest vertical leap.

We might never have known the name Edison today if it weren't for the fact that he snapped, went back to Reno and went hillbilly on the whole town with a rubber hose until it was declared that Edison really was the inventor of the light bulb, never mind all of those bullshit light bulbs everybody over in Europe had been using for years.

Thereafter the name Edison became synonymous with light bulbs and insane backwoods crackers everywhere, a true story of American ingenuity and intimidation that would stand as an example for years to come.

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