The Clintons: America’s arkancurse

Published 15 years ago -  - 15y ago 50


Image courtesy of Marc Nozell under CC BY 2.0.

Judas is back in town.

George W. Bush has still not learned that you can’t charm the Clintons anymore than you can de-criminalize them. During a recent interview with George Stephanopolous (Clinton’s former White House mascot-without-portfolio) Clinton got around to second guessing Bush. Bubba’s what you might call a Monday morning backstabber. He maintains his relationships with former aides in case he needs to get a foothold in somebody’s face. In the White House, Stephanopolous served approximately the same function for Bill Clinton that Mr. Renfield did for Count Dracula. The Clinton Administration amassed eight years of political scatology so the interview was a long unsanitary walk down memory lane.

Characteristically, Bubba could hardly wait to hear what he was going to say against the incumbent President next. This latest double-cross indicates that retirement has not depleted the energy of his obliquity. For Bill Clinton, brevity is not the soul of wit, but turpitude reduced to its essence. The briefest possible measure of life of expectancy is being a soldier in combat depending on Bill Clinton to protect your back.

It is to be remembered that the Clinton Administration allowed the nation to suffer one terrorist attack after another without retaliation. No one expected Clinton to exact retribution against an enemy anymore than they expected him to defend his own. Clinton has an inverse Midas touch that converts caution into cowardice. He has taken his proper place alongside Cindy Sheehan. The Clinton mystique has migrated from the soccer moms to the surrender freaks.

It must be considered that on their resumes the Clintons list lies as accomplishments. Polygraph test results disclose that Hillary is in Truth Deficit while Bill’s styluses register between Equivocation and Bullshit Overkill. Nevertheless, the media is all but erotically excited by Clinton-speak, a kind of bubble bath of toxic hick rhetoric. It would seem daily newspapers exist for supporting his casuistries made the day before. The media is Clinton’s unfailing tool for dismantling the Republic, primarily by suffocating the truth. Clinton can always rely on for corroboration Susan Estrich, Eleanor Clift, Maureen Dowd, and Margaret Carlson, Maureen Dowd, and other strumpets of the mainstream.

The Clintons do not enlist or indoctrinate acolytes. They are lodestones to the venal and corruptible. We do know that Bill could not have sold the hoi polloi the Brooklyn Bridge without his admirers first stealing it for him. If Bill Clinton accomplished nothing else in his time it was finally making guilt by association not only respectable but epidemic. If you need to get in touch with Dan Rather, Marc Rich, Mary Mapes, Jamie Gorelick, Kofi Annan, Sandy Berger, or any of the Clinton spaniels, they are listed in The Telephone White Wash Pages.

The election of Bill Clinton has disqualified the Presidency from the category of Prestige Employment. Bill Clinton’s departure from the White House demonstrated to Office Depot a need for an office machine for shredding ex-presidents. Clinton is a failed President suffering from delusions of legacy. Clinton will be remembered in history as a confidence man. Rather than being “the first black President” he is the first white Don King. Bill Clinton did not improve race relations, but just panders to an aboriginal mindset. If there is not much diversity in Clinton’s native Arkansas it’s because people there are inclined to marry their sisters.

Early on, Bubba embraced an element of redneck lore about sex – that there’s nothing you can get so far behind on that you can get caught up on so fast. His preoccupation with sex was suspected when his parents noticed he figured out a way to lock the bathroom door from both sides at the same time. Now, past the age of 50, Bill Clinton is still L’il Abner on Viagra. During his impeachment he prevailed on the Reverend Jesse Jackson to enlist God as a member of his legal staff. We know from Jackson’s own peccadilloes that Jesse does not absolve sins, he endorses them. (Hillary tries to surround Bill with graceless and asymmetrical women. Consider the totem pole-like Janet Reno – and Ruth Bader Ginsburg who looks like she was fashioned out of pipe cleaners by a retarded child.)

Bubba is The Paris Hilton of politics and a legend for his amour de boue (love of the mud.) He cannot purge the urge. This inclination was explained by a cranial X-ray that revealed his brain has a vaginal lobe. Clinton’s mind doesn’t contemplate, it loiters in bad neighborhoods. A mentalist attempting to read his mind would be “slumming”. Bill Clinton could have been sworn in on a copy of Hustler Magazine. He shouldn’t have been inaugurated, but gelded. America doesn’t need a statue in the Capitol Rotunda of a President holding open a dirty raincoat. Six months after Bill Clinton is dead the coroner will still be trying to beat his prostate to death with a stick.

Bill Clinton is the Arkansas Robin Hood who steals from the middle class to corrupt the poor. He thinks of a bribe as a bloodless revolution. His participation in war or peace dishonors both. Clinton mocks patriotism and disparages matrimony, although the latter was never a challenge for him. He has made a funhouse mirror of the Constitution while Congress allowed him to legitimize his image as The Lawgiver – a Moses of the Ozarks. His fetch-and-carry chroniclers are still at work revising Scripture (The Gospel according to Saint Bubba). Clinton could have taught King Solomon a thing or two about ducking relevant questions.

It is a historical irony that Bill Clinton was born in Hope, Arkansas, and Genghis Khan was born in Hope, Mongolia. The disparities are in the details. This coincidence may have had some influence on Clinton’s idea of “Chinese take- out” as a form of illegal campaign contributions. In the Monopoly game of Life, Bubba’s token landed on the box called Scandal – and took root. His most notable accomplishments in office were tilting the truth, jimmying open the Treasury, emasculating the military, transferring purchasing power to the unappreciative and turning Haiti into another Bangladesh. He appointed ACLU outpatient, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, to the Supreme Court, who is inept, looks like a busted umbrella, and has the judicial temperament of a warthog with hemorrhoids. Talk about legacy! Should Bubba achieve his ambition to become Secretary General the United Nations, we can expect to see a Security Council composed of Syria, Iran, North Korea, Saudi Arabia, the Cali Cartel, the Mustang Ranch, The Gaza Strip, The Apollo Theater, The Jerry Springer Show, and Arkansas.

The media is a petrie dish in which is cultured Bill’s damp sexual fantasies. Any room Clinton enters is made gamy by his presence. His innate prurience exudes a dankness that causes wallpaper to curl. Jimmy Carter would designate him a Habitat for Humidity. There is no political virus that Bill Clinton cannot transmit over a transom, under a door, or sexually. He is a disgrace always poised to snuggle up to Humanity.

“Hurricane Monica” left the Clinton legacy dank. It was foreseeable that the media would exonerate him at the cost of its own reputation. Only a generation of amoral journalistic pygmies could have been so continuously seduced. As a result Bill Clinton has had more sequels than Rocky. For the chroniclers, just being Bill Clinton is a form of no-fault insurance. The media finds the truth necessary only when the Clintons find it convenient. Bubba’s theme song should be titled “Call Me Unaccountable”.

After rereading Scripture, one theologian speculated that Satan created obscenity so that people could discuss the Clintons without inhibition. Bill Clinton has finally sprung a leak in his charisma, and his idolaters may be obliged to adjust the time-worn axiom to read – a fool and his legacy are soon departed.


The Clintons ongoing mission is to pollute America’s wishing well. In the ominous candidacy of Hillary, the Clintons are offering America another episode of moral vagrancy called a Clinton Administration, a continuity of the installation of the lowest possible people in the highest possible places. The liberals are sending us that venomous Valentine, Hillary Clinton, whose political ambitions are even more insidious than her husband’s – having been intensified by a feminist mindset called gynopsychosis.

Hillary Clinton is dangerous when she’s deceitful, and duplicitous when she’s sincere. She is a probable DNA match for a piranha. In temperament Hillary is frequently compared to Nurse Ratchet withholding a patient’s post-surgery shot. At Wellesley she was a trendsetter of socialist chic. Her smile was not as seductive as it was subversive. It’s said she has a personal interior decorator who reminds her when her heart could use a second coat of black. She wears designer cologne called Lava No. 5. If Hillary Clinton becomes President, the Oval Office will be closed on Tuesdays, which is the day she visits her herpetologist. For liberals Ms. Clinton has a kind of reptilian charm. At an airport metal detector a security guard searching passengers made the mistake of requesting that Hillary shed her skin. (He’s resting now.)

This second lapse into Clintonism may indicate the liberals’ ongoing search for The Death Wish President. A Hillary Presidency will give the Democrats a second chance to soak their tootsies in the Apocalypse. Liberals seem to be on Earth without an invitation, and Armageddon may be their best chance of ending their feelings of alienation.

In anticipation of a Hillary victory at the polls, welfare recipients have already broken out the confetti knowing, once again, there will be someone in the White House who will lead them in giving the nation a financial hernia. In Arkansas, the Clintons acquired their most pragmatic and ardently-held political dialectic – that the Democrat Party’s power sources from the ignorant, hence the Clintons cultured for themselves a constituency of the mega-stupid. Happily for Bill and Hillary, Affirmative Action proved to be a turnout lane on the education highway.

Inside every Hillary Clinton there’s a back alley abortionist waiting to give the U.S. Constitution a hysterectomy. If she is elected President, the Pro-choice lobby can expect publication of a national directory of abortionists whose practices are for sale. Additionally, Hillary’s birthday will designated as National Pull the Plug on a Fetus Day. With Hillary as President the nation could look forward to a willary you can look forward to a Hhim-directed foreign policy, the establishment of a Department of Choreography, and the use of NASA satellites to track Bubba’s nocturnal meanderings.

The Clintons use each other as props. Their mutual affection is about as shallow as a birdbath. They are a paradoxical union of the crude and the prude. The Clintons are both lawyers, further disparaging a profession that required no further disparagement. It enables them to constantly re-infect each other with duplicity and fine print. Bill’s moral plasticity enables him to take the form of any receptacle he is put in. He has the chameleon’s adaptability – and Hillary has its moral slither. The legend is that they honeymooned on the Love Boat which caused an out break scurvy. Bill’s fascination with the flesh tapered off after their wedding night and tapered back on as soon as Hillary went to powder her nose. For both, their real romance is with political chicanery which just slathers on.

If elected, Hillary is expected to carry on her husband’s affectionate regard for world despots who have an intense allergy for America. It is recalled that Bill presented a duplicate set of the keys to the Grand Canyon to Kim Jong Il, gave Kofi Annan a license to wear a baseball cap backwards in perpetuity, and allowed Nelson Mandela to wear his usual pajama top while addressing Congress.

One need not have met the Clintons to evaluate them. To conceive of them is to disaffirm them. One has only to visit the over-promoted Clinton Library – whose most prominent exhibition is the display of its collection of print outs from Bill and Hillary’s failed polygraph tests. (A hallowed niche in the gallery is reserved for Bubba’s Lifetime Achievement Award for Surviving Gonorrhea.)

The Bill and Hillary “tell all” books revealed nothing new about them, the Clintons having previously invested their discretions in the indiscreet. Suffice to say, they created a climate of prosperity for evil. It is to be hoped atop Mount Olympus the god, Vulcan, is at his forge crafting His and Hers lightning bolts.


Published originally at : republication allowed with this notice and hyperlink intact.”

50 recommended
comments icon 0 comments
0 notes
bookmark icon

Write a comment...

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *