I just knew he could do it. I knew he had it in him.
Not only, in the jaws of defeat, did he write a best selling book, but he sings too.
Not only did he win a Nobel Peace Prize, but yes, it turns out he sings too.
Not only did he go to Hollywood and win an Academy Award, gosh darn it, the guy SINGS.
Al Gore has exacted a mythical revenge. What's not to love!
Now he gets, one more time, to bring the world to his knee, begging to shower him with another prize, by virtue of that unassailable art form, opera.
It will be an actual Italian composing the opera, but you know that Gore will be consulted every step of the way.
He wants to sing. I just know it. Why else would he have said yes?
Al Gore up on the stage, his new(ish) girth just so right for the medium, belting out operatic bellows of heartfelt, indeed stricken, odes to arias and Green--
Why not.
Because it is only right that handsome Al should get to show the world, one more time, you can't keep a good man down.
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