Tuning in to political speeches lately has turned us into a nation of waterboarding victims. By comparison, in fact, waterboarding sounds like an acceptable alternative.

Most notably, we can't turn on the radio or TV without hearing that the married governor (as of this writing, on both counts) of one of these United States has declared his mistress to be his "soul mate."

Mark Sanford's very words: "I will be able to die knowing that I had met my soul mate."

In the words of the poet, gag me with a spoon. The fact that a grown man thinks he has a "soul mate" -- no, not a soul mate, but his one and only soul mate -- should make other grown-ups cringe and start questioning the democratic form of government.

Outside of astrology columns, dating services and high school hallways, the term "soul mate" should be banned in public, punishable by a prison sentence so severe that it would make Bernard Madoff breathe a sign of relief for getting away with only 150 years in the slammer.

What is a soul mate? It used to be somebody of the opposite sex with whom you had a deep personal affinity or bond. Then, somewhere between the Age of Aquarius and the New Age, it gained significance and defined the one person on the entire planet who not only was fated to be yours but, by gosh, will be, even if one or both of the eternal love pair has to climb the highest mountain, swim the deepest sea -- well, you get the picture.

Hogwash. There are a bunch of folks on Earth, and everyone has a lot of potential soul mates. Or, as we used to say, mates. Boyfriends and girlfriends. Husbands and wives. No destiny, just luck.

Hearing the governor's words, I felt I was reading an old Archie comic book, with the gang listening to the jukebox at the malt shop and planning their Saturday night dates. It's too bad politicians aren't as easy to unplug as that jukebox.

A minor offense came last week when we learned the outcome of the U.S. Senate election last fall in Minnesota. (Apparently, their spring thaw doesn't come until summer.)

That state's Supreme Court finally ruled that former comedian Al Franken had indeed defeated incumbent Norm Coleman by only 312 votes out of 2.9 million votes cast. The winner, with his soul mate of many years by his side, told reporters he was pleased and humbled.

"Not just by the closeness of this election, but by the enormity of the responsibility that comes with this office," he said.

Come on, Al! Was that a holdover joke from your Saturday Night Live days? Maybe you were sneaking in a sly slam at Congress, knowing full well that you should have said the "enormousness," which means "immense or large," and not "enormity," which means "great wickedness" or a "monstrous or outrageous act."

Were you just taking a dig at your opponent's name: Norm? Or, caught up in the thrill of that 312-vote landslide, did you simply misspeak?

If so, watch it! You're a U.S. senator now. Go buy a dictionary and read it, if you have any time left after making promises, spending federal money and running for re-election.

Reach Glynn Moore at (706) 823-3419 or glynn.moore@augustachronicle.com.