The primary is over.  Everyone has voted.  Sen. Clinton will soon be endorsing Obama and we're finally turning our attention toward beating John McCain in the fall.

Everyone who's managed to stick it out here on Daily Kos knows that there have been more than a few flame wars, some pain and heartache, and other bumps on the road during this primary.  Honestly, at times it seemed like it would go on forever.

But it has ended, and before we turn our eyes forward, I thought I'd ask what everyone's favorite moments were.

Below the fold, I've got a few of my own.

 

Much has been written about Sen. Clinton's inability to catch up with Sen. Obama's pledged delegate lead.

Clinton Wins Big, but Math is Troubling.

Given the remaining contests — many with electorates favorable to Obama — Obama's existing hundred-plus delegate lead, and the rules by which Democrats apportion delegates, it is almost a political and mathematical certainty that Obama will have an elected delegate lead at the end of the process, barring dramatic, unforeseen circumstances.

For a long time in this Democratic primary of ours, I was undecided.  I had hoped that Al Gore, a man whom I would be honored to vote for, would enter the fray.  That hope, however, was tempered by an absolute certainty he would not run.  As such, I never became too emotionally attached to any particular candidate.  

Barack Obama’s speech at the Ebenezer Baptist Church has changed this.

Some days I just want to quit.  I can't take any more heartache and pain caused by this god-awful war.  Every now and then a story gets through my defenses and makes me alternately furious and heartbroken.

A wounded Iraq veteran and his wife have lost a third child from injuries the boy suffered in a car accident on the way to visit his father in the hospital.

Unfortunately Melissa McEwan, affectionately known as Shakes by her readers, has decided to resign from the Edwards Campaign.

There are very few things that are more boring than reading a bunch of definitions online, but, in light of some of the recent diaries and discussion on dKos regarding race in America, I think it is important to learn about some concepts of race and discrimination.  I'll try to pepper the discussion with some "fun" anecdotes, like why some of my classmates think its no big deal to call a Polish person a DP, or why black men cannot be gay.

That doesn't mean that everyone will agree on what defines "racism" or "prejudice."  In fact, within my own field of study there are variations and disagreements.  Across specialties there will be even more.  It is still worthwhile to see what has come before, however, and it is with that spirit I offer some of these terms for discussion.

In my last (and first) diary, I tried to tell the story of my father's life with Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).  Because people who read and comment on Daily Kos are so well informed on just about every topic, it was second nature to just tell the story without providing any background on the disorder.

It has been a few years since I've had to take a literature class, but I do remember that knowing your audience is one of the most important parts of discourse, written or spoken.  That first diary seemed to resonate with people who have PTSD, people who know PTSD sufferers, and professionals who have treated the disorder.  That diary received one comment complaining about my use of the acronym "PTSD."  I was sharing a personal experience, and my intention was never to provide information on the disorder, but that comment made me realize that PTSD isn't understood by everybody.  

Just what the hell is post-traumatic stress disorder?

My father honorably served his country during the Vietnam War.  

Unfortunately, his country did not honorably serve him back.

Dad lived a somewhat crazy life as a youth.  I know only bits and pieces.  He ran away to New Orleans with a friend when he was just an adolescent.  He got into some trouble "rolling queers."  He would be solicited by older men, and he and his friend would assault them.  When I learned about this, I was shocked.  I always thought of my dad as the least prejudiced person I knew.  I asked him why he did it.  He responded with a shrug, and said "I needed the money."  He never left them injured (physically), and didn't give a damn about their sexual orientation.  They made easy marks.  While I'm not proud of Dad's actions (neither is he), I did take some solace in the knowledge that he was not motivated by hate or bigotry.  He was eventually caught, and spent some time in Biloxi, Mississippi in a roadside work gang.

Like I said, Dad had a somewhat crazy youth.