America the Jubilant
Barack Obama's Nov. 4 victory speech at Grant Park brought together overjoyed blacks and whites in a mass not witnessed since Halle Berry finally showed her tits in Swordfish. Even a relaunch of the McRib in Louisiana would fail to match such racially harmonious ecstacy.

But following George W. Bush as president isn't a hard gig. It's like being a neighborhood's new ice cream truck driver after the last one molested all the 6-year-olds. People wonder if Obama can make good on all of his campaign promises, like it matters. He'll soar past Bush in approval ratings by walking through the White House front door without tripping on the runner.

Pretty much everything went to shit under 43's watch, including the economy, Britney Spears' sluttiness, international relations, air travel, health care and military families' faith in the government. The Yankees can't win a World Series anymore, porn clips come with that annoying 18 U.S.C. 2257 disclaimer, the brainless Deal or No Deal is a prime-time hit, and AOL lost 120 zillion subscribers (including every grandma who ever sent an e-mail with a blank subject).

As merely a presidential candidate in July, Barack Oabama "dazzled" over 200,000 supporters in Germany. We send the current guy overseas and we're lucky if he doesn't come back with a shoeprint on his face.

Change is coming to America. Thank fucking god.

New York Giants
From the Jan. 6 win at Tampa Bay that started an improbable Super Bowl run to the Dec. 21 OT victory over Carolina that clinched the NFC's No. 1 seed, the Giants provided their fans an entire year's worth of thrilling moments, going 16-3 in 2008, until a rest-'em-up loss in Minnesota that didn't matter.

It's an easy group to root for. Absent of prima donna receivers and gangsta corners, these lunch pail-carrying gridders validate football as the ultimate team sport. When Plaxico Burress' stupidity and legal defiance threatened the team's focus and dignity, the G-Men had no problem rendering him out of sight and out of mind. Contrast that with those idiots Roddy White and DeAngelo Hall, who were still slurping Mike Vick while getting destroyed in a prime-time loss last season.

Salaries alone dictate that the lives of pro athletes are much different than ours. That's OK, as long as there is one simple bond — that winning is paramount, even after the mega-deals have been signed. That's how teams show respect for the fans who subsidize their fortunes. The mutual respect between the Giants and their fans was the theme of the day when they strode up the Canyon of Heroes, on a Tuesday morning when I was surrounded by a million smiles, a sea of blue and an unforgettable cry of "We stomped you out!"

Religulous
Bill Maher's film on the absurdity of organized superstition sums up everything I've loathed about religion ever since I was old enough to realize that not only is there no Santa Claus, but that water-to-wine story is bullshit, too. (And you can throw in talking snakes and parting of seas for good measure.)

If I want to waste my time attending rituals with no tangible result, except to give away money, I'll get some Knicks season tickets.

Some choice YouTube clips:
• Bill Maher on why religion must die for mankind to live
• George Carlin on why religion is the greatest bullshit story ever told
• David Cross on religion, the Catholic church and being an atheist in Atlanta

Chocolate News
On Comedy Central's hilarious news spoof, David Alan Grier tackles such key issues in black culture as The Death of Hip-Hop ("When did "Fight the Power" become "Wait 'Till You See My Dick?") and Reginald "Fat Man" Harrison's controversial No Child Left Behind public-service announcement.

He also catches up with former porn star Donald "Licorice Stick" Mayfield, who inspired countless sex moves, including the Detroit Mud Pie, the Velvet Slingshot and the Denver Omelet.

Amazingly, the show manages to carry on after the tragic passing of white correspondent Roger Dunn.

New York Mets' Collapse: The Sequel
I called it "the best new comedy of the fall season," but the Mets' late-season choke was actually a repeat. While not as colossal as the '07 version, the '08 debacle was equally as satisfying, as it featured the same playing-for-nothing Marlins acting as spoilers at Shea, and it vindicated once-a-Yankee-always-a-Yankee Willie Randolph, who, in Mets fans' delusional eyes, was seen as some kind of barrier between that team and 120 wins.

Every Now and Then I Took a Nice Photo
Among my favorite pics this year were a couple shot in Central Park: one of a man walking up the stairs from Bethesda Fountain toward the mall, and other doing a handstand in front of a downtrodden soul at nearby Naumburg Bandshell. As a capture one could never plan for, the latter serves as an example of why I dig photography — because you just never know when a great photo-op will arise.

I also worked out some new hardware, posting just a few wide-angle shots, and macro shots and used a zoom lens to capture Alex Rodriguez's concentration on a meaningless spring training pitch, which, with perfect balance and eyes locked on the ball, he correctly let pass two inches below the knees.

Atlantic City Poker Trips
Seventeen wins in 19 visits. Free hotel room four nights a month. Complimentary adult beverages while scooping pots. What's not to like?

Oh yeah, the dirtbags I have to play against in the most depressing town in the world. And the rolling mental hospital they call the bus from Port Authority.