Mixed emotions

I really have mixed feelings about Hillary fading in the primaries. While I will definitely rejoice when the day comes when she and Slick Willie begin to fade from constant public consciousness, I am concerned that Obama will be harder to beat in the general election. (And, yes, I will have to bite my tongue really hard and pull the lever for McCain.)

Mark Steyn has an interesting column today where he analyzes the reasons why Hillary’s campaign is imploding so soon. One of the particularly interesting reasons he gives is that Obama is, in effect, reprising Slick Willie’s techniques from 1992 and that the only reason Slick was able to hang on as long as he did was that his sexual escapades caused the liberals to rally around him when they were not really thrilled with his “moderate” policies.

The most interesting paragraph points out that, without Bill’s “rogue charm”, Hillary just looks sad and desperate:

Hillary is what the Clintons look like with their pants up. Their much-vaunted political savvy turns out to be a big nothing: The supposed masters of “the politics of personal destruction” can’t turn up anything better on Obama than some ancient essay from his Jakarta grade school, plus a few limp charges of plagiarism. And instead of getting the surrogates to crowbar the enemy every time Hillary opens up on him she looks mean and petty and he gets to do his high-minded Obamessiah routine.

While I will be happy to see Slick and Hill fade from the spotlight, the thought of an Obama presidency disturbs me just as much as a Clinton restoration would have.

P.S. Here’s another great quote I ran across later:

The reason Hillary had to go was, well, to put it kindly — she was a dreadful candidate. That grim Nurse Ratched visage, that hectoring, flat, midwestern drone, the stubby finger-pointing: She was every guy’s first wife and his first mother-in-law rolled into a pantsuit.

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About stevehull

Music director in Naples, FL
This entry was posted in General, Social Commentary. Bookmark the permalink.

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