A CHOIR OF FAT LADIES ARE SINGING...
Portsmouth, NH. (Jan. 8, 2008. TBC Exclusive) Having presented every possible crafted, scripted, focus-group tested incarnation of herself, Hillary Clinton played her one remaining card here yesterday: that of the picked on, misunderstood, woman being disrespected by men. This was perhaps the least believable of all the myriad unbelievable personas she and her operatives have dreamt up and used thus far.
The steely, experienced, tough political activist who had fought the republican smear machine for 16 years did not work too well. Equally ineffective was the battle hardened legislator, the long time champion of women’s and children’s rights, the advocate activist for the downtrodden. Certainly her stint as the inevitable commander-in-chief-in-waiting, ready to hit the ground running as soon as rolled up her sleeves and slammed the Oval Office door shut, has not played well at all. For a brief time, as the political scene in Iowa began to shift, she dragged her old mother out on the campaign trail with her, had a few old, close, girl friends tag along, with daughter Chelsea by her side. This transparent effort to show her “softer side” was as phony as her alleged lifelong allegiance to the New York Yankees.
Yes indeed. Now that the going has gotten rough, that her once formidable juggernaut of a political machine has shown the telltale signs of over use and antiquation, the once ballsy attorney from the infamous Rose Law Firm, the shrewd cattle futures player who parlayed a meager investment into a cool hundred thousand in short order, this chameleon, has tried the sympathy shtick.
While taking questions from some nice women at a diner counter here, her eyes welled up and, her voice, softened with sincerity, stress and weariness, quavered a bit as she rested her noble chin in the palm of her left hand explaining, from the depths of her heart, how “tough” it has all been. It was a poor imitation of a B-grade movie performance at best, yet another scripted tactic that did not work, at worst. Hillary Clinton may be many things but the weepy, worn out, battered and bruised crusader is not one of them. Not by a long shot.
Not even the most talented politician in the history of politics, her husband, former President William Jefferson Clinton and all his oratory skills seems able to help his wife as the fickle carpet of electoral reality is being pulled, first by Iowans, now by New Hampshirites, from beneath her sensible pumps.
The pants-suited warrior acting as if her destiny was just months from being fulfilled is now instead going to pay for her past. All the maneuvering, memory losses, lost records, White House charades, cover-ups, slip-ups and Vince Foster-like mysteries are coming home to roost. The Illinois native, former Arkansas and United States First Lady, who carpetbagged her way into a Senate seat for the State of New York, may finally be glimpsing the stark end of her long and winding road.
Oh, the humanity! The brutality that she may actually be denied what she has so long sought, so fervently believed to be hers. Adding insult to injury, her political lard ass may be kicked by a freshman Senator, an up-start possessed by not just the “Audacity of Hope” by also the audacity to challenge her.
If the entry and exit polls are to believed, she may not have to travel to South Carolina right away. She may have to stage a fund raiser or two merely to prolong the agony of the "new inevitable" in Hillary-world: defeat. The only saps that may still believe in this charlatan are those coursing through the multitude of maple trees here.
Shrillary Clinton. Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow.
Farley Marsden, New Hampshire Correspondent for TBC
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