666 Update: Our plans to toast the Day of the Beast at the Edgewater pier were foiled by His Satanic Eminence Himself. He really did throw some weather at us, and he didn't mess around with cats and dogs, either -- or even frogs. He threw tornadoes at us. But he missed.
It was the damndest thing (and I'm choosing my words carefully here -- after all, I am speaking of the Prince of Darkness, the Boss of the Four Horsemen himself.) He couldn't touch us. Miraculously, the thunderheads and updrafts and rotating winds and flying debris diverged and split as they approached Madison. Some went southwest of us, some went northeast, and overhead the skies cleared and turned blue. It was like the Red Sea parting, or something.
27 Live Super Doppler
Bad weather southwest of Madison
Bad weather northeast of Madison
To what does Madison owe this miraculous stroke of luck? I'm just guessing here, but I think it's possible that even the Beast has gotten sick and tired of Ann Coulter. Publishing her new book on the Day of the Beast must have been the last straw. Madison is a pretty liberal town, and we've never had much use for Ms. Coulter, either. Even a Rough Beast has feelings. In a moment of temporary weakness, I think he saw us as an ally against a common foe and decided to cut us some slack.