The Fat Lady has sung. The last dog has died.
And still she hangs on, clutching her barely-there 2-percentage-point victory in Indiana. From her cold, dead hands, children. From her cold, dead hands.
What I will miss most about my Hillary — for yes I am a supporter and yes I would vote for her again and yes, yes, I know, she is sooo cooked — is the way she would look at Barack Obama during the debates. That frozen glare behind the frosted smile. The slight up tilt of the forehead. God, that was priceless!
There would be ol’ Barry sawing away and saying nothing, all misty uplift about change and hope and the American people, slipping ever so carefully into just the palest of black preacher cadences, something for the home team, no Reverend Wright, of course; more Miss Diahann Carroll in an Oleg Cassini gown glossing her way through Aretha: R. E. S. P. E. C. T., ladies and gentlemen. That’s what y’all mean to me.
And there would be my Hillary in all her late-blooming, newly blondized, Georgette Klinger radiance, the robot who suddenly grew a heart and look ma, she’s even warm to the touch! All red-carpet razzle dazzle beside the dour law professor, with his down-turned lips and his solemn — here I risk a racist word — dignity.
Yes, white people have dignity too, just not so much of it, not like our new sprung Baracks and Michelles who are rising ever higher. Ah, Barack and his stylish wife (Howard Stern calls her “Blackie-O”) with her own set of dour, down-turned lips — there is all the marble dignity in this couple of the nine Supreme Court Justices with the Supreme Court steps and the History of Jurisprudence frieze thrown in.
Now my girl Hillary, she has no dignity. She’s shameless, She’s ruthless. She’s Hermione Granger, waving her hand at the front of the class, with all the answers in her head. You couldn’t possibly insult her. Swift boat Hillary Clinton? Been there, done that. Let us count the ways:
Lesbian. Murderess. Wiccan. Shyster Lawyer. Whitewater Profiteer. Lady Pimp for Bill’s Bordello of Bimbos — these are just the most glistening bones left on the shore, skeletons of broken anti-Hillary slime campaigns past, funded at first by crackpots but soon by savvy Republican strategists who could see far up ahead to the Oval Office. (more…)















