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<font face="Verdana" size=2>May 27, 2008<br>
<a href="http://www.counterpunch.org/day05272008.html" eudora="autourl">
http://www.counterpunch.org/day05272008.html<br><br>
</a></font><h1><font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=4><b>Hillary's I
Don't Give a Damn Campaign <br><br>
<br>
</i></font><font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=5 color="#990000">
Gone with the W
</b></font></h1><font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=4>By SUSIE DAY
<br><br>
</font><font face="Verdana" size=6 color="#990000">H</font>
<font face="Verdana" size=2>illary Rodham Clinton was not a liberal, but
the news media seldom realized it when surrounded by campaign placards
and press kits, as a throng of reporters in the Oval Office were on this
bright, cold day in January 2009. <br><br>
"Fiddle dee dee, I can't tell you people apart," chirped
Hillary, her blue eyes fluttering prettily near the top of her
magnolia-white head. "Now, what did you come to interview me about?
Immigration? Health care –" <br><br>
Hillary paused, a wee worry line cracking her otherwise unmarred,
alabaster forehead: "Or maybe you want to ask me how I got to be
President after losing the Democratic nomination?"<br><br>
The reporters clamored in the affirmative.<br><br>
"I'll just think about that tomorrow," Hillary announced.
"Now, shoo. I’ve got some administratin' to do!"<br><br>
As Secret Service agents dragged the reporters away, Hillary settled back
in her executive swivel chair and smiled. "Administratin'" –
She liked the way she had learned to drop her "g's" at the end
of gerunds and participles. Somehow, it had helped her vote for a war in
Iraq and funding for an endless occupation. It also inspired trust in
hard-working Americans – hard-working <i>white</i> Americans. Not so much
in those shiftless "other" people.<br><br>
Hillary was glad she'd once told the press that campaign support from
"working, hard-working Americans, white Americans" had dwindled
for her nonwhite opponent. And that "whites who had not completed
college" supported <i>her</i>. Hillary sighed contentedly: It sure
was nice, being a feminist. <br><br>
Fiddle dee dee on the Middle East, recession, global warming: Didn't
everyone know that identity politics was what the Presidential campaign
had been about? Whether women or African Americans faced more
discrimination? Didn't Gloria Steinem write in the New York Times that
"the sex barrier is not taken as seriously as the racial one"?
Hadn't Geraldine Ferraro stated that Barak Obama got preferential
treatment because he was a Black man? Why, even a Mary Kay Cosmetics
sales director in Ohio, declaring that women wouldn't accept
"back-of-the-bus" status, organized a group of Democrats
mostly women to campaign against Obama! <br><br>
These brave feminists weren't afraid to act on a truth that Reality
forbade them to speak: that while "African Americans" may occur
in different genders, "women" were always white. Yes,
Sisterhood was powerful – at least for "hard-working" women.
Hillary had had to use every ounce of her money and influence, but
finally she proved she was more oppressed, by being elected
President. <br><br>
Well. Maybe "elected" wasn't the best word. There were those
sexist accusations that she had hacked some voting machines; the
perennial charge that votes of "hard-working" Americans counted
more than those of "non-hard-working" Americans. Fiddle dee dee
on that, too. Her philandering, gun-running skunk of a hubby had the
matter under control. He owed her that much. <br><br>
Ecstatically, Hillary hugged herself around her 37-inch waist and let out
a warm, executive cackle. "Home!" she cried exultantly.
"George Bush is gone and I'm home, to Tara – I mean, the White House
– where I belong. I'll never be power-hungry again!"<br><br>
Suddenly, her handsome little head was abuzz with all there was to do:
print up new currency, privatize more highways, punish some
superdelegates, arrange that cookie-baking photo op with Tammy Wynette
…<br><br>
Hillary rang for the White House maid, Pammy. Like most
"hard-working" Americans, it took Pammy a little longer to
appear than Hillary would have liked. Finally, she shuffled in.
"Yeah, Ms. Hillary?" sighed Pammy, patting her hairdo.<br><br>
"Oh, Pammy, I want you to wash the windows behind my desk,"
spoke Hillary crisply. "Then, if you could rip down those curtains
and make me a nice pantsuit out of them. Now, don't dawdle so – I can
read you white, hard-working people like a book."<br><br>
Suddenly, shouts and the sound of gunfire erupted from the White House
lawn. A Secret Service agent, shot in the chest, stumbled in, clutching a
bloodstained note. Groaning from the competing pains of his bullet-wound
and of being used as such a transparent plot device, he managed to gasp,
"Telegram for the President," before collapsing. Hillary's
administrative lips trembled as she read aloud: <br><br>
</font>
<dl>
<dd>"ANGRY MOB OUTSIDE [STOP] AMERICANS SICK OF WAR AND HOUSING
CRISIS [STOP] WHENEVER ANY FORM OF GOVERNMENT BECOMES DESTRUCTIVE IT IS
RIGHT OF THE PEOPLE TO ALTER OR ABOLISH IT AND INSITUTE NEW GOVERNMENT
[STOP] THAT'S DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE TOOTS [STOP] RESIGN
NOW"<br><br>
</dl>Terrified, Pammy began rending her dish towel, in the amusing frenzy
reserved for working-class stereotypes. "I don't know nothin' about
birthin' no governments, Ms. Hillary!" she shrieked. "All I
know is, you put a knife in the President to cut your pain in two –"
<br><br>
Pammy froze. Hoping to hell she hadn't just inadvertently reminded her
boss of Bobby Kennedy's assassination, she scurried out.<br><br>
But Hillary Rodham Clinton only smiled. It was 3:00 p.m. in the White
House and she was alone – alone with her feminism. Of course, she
suspected terrorists. She remembered her old campaign promise about
obliterating Iran. Shouldn't she have equal opportunity to use a military
ploy any male</i> President would use to distract Americans from social
change? <br><br>
Her lily, feminist hand reached for the red phone. For a second, she
thought she heard the voices of 71 million Iranians, wordlessly begging
for their lives. But what were they, compared to one hard-working woman's
right to be President?<br><br>
"Frankly, my dears," said Hillary under her breath, "I
don't give a damn."<br><br>
Susie Day</b> can be reached at:
<a href="mailto:sday@skadden.com">sday@skadden.com</a><br><br>
© Susie Day, 2008<br><br>
<br><br>
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