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I watched part two of the first Democratic 2020 presidential debate last night—all 120 minutes of it. I watched John Hickenlooper and Michael Bennet slowly morph into one person as the evening progressed. I heard the viewer question submitted by Kathleen in Canby (you go, Kathleen in Canby!). I contemplated the possibility of my drink being spiked with acid each time Marianne Williamson spoke.

What I'm saying is, I watched that whole damn debate, and now I have some questions.

When do we get to see Kamala Harris and Elizabeth Warren go head-to-head?

There seems to be some consensus that Elizabeth Warren won the first night's debate, and Kamala Harris walked out of last night's debate looking pretty damn good. Harris schooled Joe Biden on the issue of integration and busing (because time is, apparently, a flat circle), and had sharp and soundbite-able answers for nearly every question thrown at her. If you missed the debate last night, you really ought to spend four and a half minutes to watch this evisceration of Biden.

Harris' precision and refusal to back down makes me excited to think about how she might perform in a general election debate against Trump—but first, I need to see Warren and Harris face-off on the same stage. Let's hope that's in the cards for the next debate.

What was Joe Biden thinking?

First, see the video above for Biden's biggest fuckup of the night—but not his only fuckup of the night! Biden has never looked more behind the times than he did on that stage last night—hell, he made Hickenlooper look like a fiery young whippersnapper! When other candidates were debating the finer points of transitioning to a single-payer healthcare system, Biden was talking up Obamacare. When every other candidate onstage said they supported decriminalizing the US-Mexico border (meaning undocumented immigration would be demoted to a civil offense, not a criminal one), Biden dodged the question and defended the Obama Administration's deportation and detainment policies, which many have said were almost as bad as Trump's.

I had never even heard of Rep. Eric Swalwell before last night, but he got in a great dig at Biden for his refusal to let the next generation lead. (Although I should note that everything is more exciting with a split-screen.)

What's in a name?

The social acceptability of being a socialist—or a Democratic socialist, or whatever—has come a long way in the last four years, thanks in no small part to Bernie Sanders' 2016 presidential run. But Bernie was still the only candidate willing to self-identify as a Democratic socialist. Call me Carrie Bradshaw, but I can't help but wonder: In a world where Democratic candidates are tripping over themselves to offer debt-free college, single-payer healthcare, and a de-monopolized tech industry, do the semantics of the thing matter? Here's Bernie going off on his electability as a Democratic socialist:

And here's AOC with some historical context:

How fucked will our climate be on Election Day?

The question of how candidates would address climate change didn't get a ton of airtime last night—and the Democratic National Committee doesn't have any plans for a debate dedicated to the topic, which is unfortunate. Over at Vox, writer Umair Irfan makes a strong case for why we need a full two hours devoted to saving our planet:

So far, 15 Democratic candidates have said that they support holding a climate change debate, including frontrunners like Joe Biden and Bernie Sanders.

Outside the DNC headquarters in Washington, DC, activists from the Sunrise Movement have been calling for a climate change debate for nearly three days. Democratic primary voters routinely rank climate change among their top concerns. Clearly, huge parts of the Democratic base are energized and mobilized around the issue.

Marianne Williamson?

That's it, that's the question, because the woman is an enigma!

But on the other hand, maybe she's not a mystery at all. Maybe I've known her all my life, without even realizing it. I think she was my high school English teacher who had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the school year, quit, and was never heard from again. I have a vague memory of spotting her outside the Portland State farmers market years ago, when she was selling unpasteurized milk out of a cooler. Once, perhaps in a past life, I saw her walking on the beach. She was at a distance, but I felt an inexplicable pull toward her. As I ran toward her, calling out "New Zealand!", I had a realization that made me stop in my tracks. Marianne was walking in the sand, but she wasn't leaving any footprints.