My first reaction upon learning of the death of Princess Diana, who had become a celebrity’s celebrity and an (unfortunate) fashion model for legions of young women, was to blurt out “Princess Die.” I envisioned it as a pithy headline suitable for a tabloid. My guess is that it didn’t appear in print anywhere.
Weeping Willie (“I feel your pain”) Clinton has been for more than twenty years the idol of impressionable women of a certain age and connoisseurs of political tradecraft. The Lewinsky affair and other instances of his exploitation of women didn’t loosen his grip on the heartstrings of the impressionable because — we were assured — his heart was in the right place. (Just ignore the fact that his hands and other body parts were in the wrong places.) As for Clinton’s vaunted political tradecraft: (1) it somehow never translated to a majority of the popular vote, and (2) the GOP took control of the House and Senate midway through Clinton’s first term and held on to the end of his presidency. It was pressure from the GOP, not Clinton’s “magic,” that led to welfare reform and budget surpluses. The political genius of Weeping Willie is a figment of his — and the media’s — imagination.
Albert Gore Jr., the bloated buffoon who was once a wonderkind of the Democrat Party, owes a lavish (and heavily carbonated) lifestyle to his bogus expertise about “global warming” and his ability to acquire government funding for “green” enterprises in which he has invested. There is little more to be said about the man, except that his 45-year romance/marriage dissolved because he and Tipper had “grown apart.” How could they not, given Al’s burgeoning girth and blatant, profitable hypocrisy?
Finally, for now, I come to the coronation of Barack Hussein Obama on January 20, 2009, which was attended by a huge throng on the National Mall. The evident hysteria of the mob resembled nothing less than the Nuremburg Rallies. These, for the benefit of the historically disadvantaged, were assemblies dedicated to the adulation of Adolf Hitler. History repeats itself as farce — if we’re lucky.