Obama's doing the same thing to Door Mat Hillary as husband Bill!

Why is Hillary Clinton on the campaign trail for Obama? Hasn't she had enough of the people who put her down, insulted her and made her a laughing stock?

Now that's we've discussed the media...

Why would she put anything toward Barack Obama?

She is the epitome of the door mat.

Sorry, Hillary. You let your husband ruin your career after he publicly humiliated you. Now you want to let Obama do the same?

I don't get women like you, Hill. I just don't. Nothing is worth your loss of dignity.

Thanks for the read.

Don't be coy, Barack. "They'll say I've got a funny name"?

I think "hot" words are thrown around too easily by people who really don't know what they mean, especially people who shouldn't be using them.

For instance, I'll bet many people don't even know what xenophobia actually means. Correctly used it describes an irrational fear of foreigners.

So when Obama called our swing staters xenophobes, was he slipping, Freudian-wise? I'm just sayin...what with the birth certificate thing and all.

Relax, folks; it's a joke.

Then there's the word racist--one who practices discrimination or antagonism towards other races. That word's tossed around like a gamecock. What is a gamecock, anyway? (It's a male game bird, not a thing that flies over a badminton net, like I first thought. That's a, a...poppycock. No, that's foolish talk or a popular snack.)

And now for my personal favorite, the politically correct, irrationally coined noun racism: (how this reconciles intellectually with science and anthropology I'll never know; but we do live in the land of Lewis Carroll): the belief that there are characteristics, abilities or qualities specific to each race.

I was taken to the mat on that one by my ex-friends (I have many, hard as it is to believe) whose contentious and obnoxious nature argued such things, e.g., taking exception to the sun rising in the east. He refused to exhibit any sophistication as it related to DNA and tendencies to genotypes. It made me laugh to watch this idiotic liberal make his PC point to protect his ideology. Of course, his SOP was to attack me personally when he was losing his political point, which was all the time.

Words. Just words.

Mulatto. It's the new N word. Watch out. Don't use it. I found that out when I read an article in the Washington Post online magazine by a M word person who suddenly is self consciously--get ready--taupe! So he and the rest of the taupe people in this world have declared that in addition to Obama being the patron saint of taupe, there will be no more M word usage. Then he ranted militantly about Sally Hemmings and leaving her door unlocked for the president.

Exhausting, isn't it?

By the way, do you know or care what a Mulatto is? After all, that's all we've ever heard in this culture, Mulatto this, Mulatto that. A girl from Kansas hears Mulatto, oh probably ten times every one-thousand years or so.

Obama is a Mulatto, a black person's and a white person's offspring. But you can't say that anymore. It's on the Do Not Touch List in Obama's Do Not Touch Book.

Reminder to self: write a note to Barack and tell him that the big fat race cards he just played 3x yesterday? Risky strategy. They work with other Dems. Not with the opposition. And time for another memo to the minions to tell 'em to stop the payback thing, ala Ludacris--read Radio One Mayo's study on modern African-Americans. http://www.blackamericastudy.com/

Better lighten up in swing states with the race thing.

Update to memo: Barack, bad news about Bebe in Israel, huh? Your worst nightmare, kiddo, because he'll take Iran out before you can print up that meeting agenda with Khomeni or whatssiname.

Later update to memo: check with econ advisers on how to re-spin good econ news today about growth and lower unemployment rate...revise "economy in tank" remarks. Find other ways to scare people, etc. Read Clinton's class warfare playbook. Stick with old man remarks--they resonate with kids. You better hope and pray they sober up and vote.

Thanks for the read.

California earthquakes make me nerve-e-ous. I needed leadership.

I'm not only a crack reporter waiting for an imaginary press pass to cover the imaginary come back by Hillary Clinton at the Denver convention, I'm also a seamstress. More on that later...

I was just inserting the needle into the corner of my California patio pillow when the quake began. I jumped up, grabbed it and looked around then wondered what to do.

Yes, your intrepid twit, panicked. I panicked.

I can't believe that I--so strong, so able, so advanced and evolved--who actually once saved another person's life (well, I pulled the table away so the guy could give my friend the Heimlich)--panicked.

How many years had it been since I had ever asked what to do? I was amazed at my fear. How long ago? At least since the night on a 32-foot boat in the middle of the south Pacific in the middle of a 60-knot gale at night, when we had big foresail up--and I had to take the helm of the boat. Somehow we had to get that sail down.

I was so scared. I gasped at the skipper as I struggled to pull the yellow all-weather gear over my sweaty body, "I don't know what to do." I hated how the rubber felt on my salt rubbed skin.

"Head her into the wind," he called back as he raced up the companionway. Easy for him to scream, I thought.

When I finally hooked myself to the boat, I took control of the helm. I stared at the sail in awe of the force of the wind. It looked like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon. We were heeled over port about...eh...39? degrees? Not sure...the keel wasn't out of the water--yet--the very event we trying to avoid. That was the good news. It's a blur sometimes when I think back.

Which way was the wind? Where was the wind, for God's sake? I do remember wondering that. In a storm so raging it's sometimes hard to figure where the wind comes from.

The skipper hung with his mate, their harnesses hitched to the boat like my own so they wouldn't get thrown overboard and he pointed starboard. I turned the wheel and turned and turned and turned and finally the sails luffed. I could barely see through the rain and wind.

"Hold her there." Did he say hold her there? I could barely hear him and could only pray what I heard was correct. Hold her?

I watched the compass and watched the wind, hoping I was "holding her there." Was I?

I thought it took every muscle and everything I had to keep her headed into that 6o-knot wind, but somehow we all did it. The sail came down and we were safe. But it was really easier than it seemed, I'm sure. The romanticism of it was must be greater than the actual deed itself. I don't talk about it much. But it does bring to mind tonight the importance of trust and leadership.

Once the sail came down, the skipper took over and my responsibility was over.

I just needed to know what to do. Instruction. That's all we need I guess. Leadership.

Today? In the earthquake, I thought the house was going to fall on me. Our ceilings are 20 feet. The two-story stairs were before me and my husband was up in his office.

I screamed the same darned thing I did 30 years ago, "I don't know what to do!"

My husband came down immediately and asked me why was I so afraid, you know what to do. That's not like you.

I told him Lucy Jones from Cal Tech said not to get in door jambs anymore, the LA Times article said so, last week. (At least I'm respectful of science.)

No, he said, after he calmed me, that's stupid. Look at this strength, as he pounds on the door jambs.

I looked. He was right. It is the strongest place in the house!

So is the place under the stairs. It's the strongest place in the house!

I hate the media. It's my fault. I should have checked it out myself.

I finished those fab pillows and am still waiting for the press pass into the Clinton pacs or some fab media group for Denver.

Oh. And the pillows? They really are California pillows. They're a screen print of a stylized map of Southern California featuring our favorite places ala the famous New Yorker Manhattan cover but using Santa Monica, Laguna, Riverside, Temecula, Orange County, San Diego. It's perfect for California dreaming and remembering! I have to laugh considering our temblors today.

It shows us, among other things, that there are lots of things that are not under our control.

Thanks for the read.

The Old Lion , Bill Clinton, places a call to his pride

On speaker phone:

Uh, Hillary...hello, Darlin!


Hi, Bill. Is it really you?!


Yep. Is Chelsea there?


I sure am, Daddy. Right here.


Are you laughin yet, Bill? We're about to pee our pants here!


*riotous laughter in the background on both ends of the phone*


Are you kiddin' me?


*more riotous laughter*


We can't stop,Daddy. I wish we'd known how dumb he really is earlier! We could've taken him out!


*laughter*


Did you like how he acted in front of the Israelis? Bebe called and said he was an total dumbass. You know Bebe!


*Hillary lets loose with her crazy laugh*


"We're sorry we water board people. Gollll-ly, we're just dumb Americans trying to save your butts."


Or. Or, then in Berlin. "You Europeans are sure smart takin' down this wall and all. United they stand. DUHHH."


*they can't get enough*


Can't wait to see that little twerp squirm...like he's been elected already...never seen anything like it.


*throat clearing*


It ain't right, Hill. 'Least Jesse came back.
(beat)
Chelsea, Honey, you okay?



Yeah, I'm always good...fine, Dad.



Okay,Sweetie. I luv you. Well, you know to call when you need...Hey, honey, I got this beautiful little gold bracelet for ya next time I see ya, I'll give it...



I always do, Dad. Love ya.



*silence*



Hey, Bill.

Off speaker.

Yeah, Honey?



Tell Jesse thanks for bringin' our people back home.
(Beat)
You still think this thing is do-able?




It's a done deal, Baby. I mean, Madame President.




I knew you'd come through.
(Beat)
Thanks, Bill.
(Beat)
You always were the king of the lions.


Night, Hilliry.

Bill winces when he presses the off button.


The Old Lion licks that hurt place on his paw which is very close to being completely healed over, but not quite.

He figures he'll be needing it for the perimeter fights he has ahead of him this August.

Strangely he's no longer as concerned about the young lion.

He silently prays for forgiveness of his many, many sins and then for the stamina and energy to do what he needs for Hillary, for Chelsea, for his country--and for this funny little coalition he's built the last six or so weeks to just hold.

Just hold.Please God, just hold.

We live in fascinating times. Watch as these two people change history. But what do I know? I'm just a little girl from Kansas.

Thanks for the read.

At least Hillary will fight for civil rights, Jesse says.

I told you Obama's not authentic.

Much more of this and Senator O may have a bigger problem than just electability with white people and independents. He just said, I'm not kidding, that "Iran is a grave threat." No, I'm not kidding.

Will he lose his base and blacks as he goes center? Looks like he's already lost his first black bosses.

Now, Jesse Jackson's admitting he's mad that Obama doesn't have the foggiest idea about 'hood living saying off mike he "cut his n--ts out," in essense, forgetting the struggles of the black community, explaining later that it was out of a social context, of course.

Jackson's right, of course. Inauthentic. Living in Hawaii is not feeling their pain.

This is a Clinton/Old Black Civil Rights Movement chess move. Frankly, it took a little longer than I thought, but Bill showed the old bosses what a mistake this Obama is for the black community. They've been waiting for this moment for about four weeks now.

And a great move it is. It calls Obama out on the mark. I like it! Perfect, kids. I couldn't have done it better.

Flush him out. Just in time.

Now, Hill can start building up the supers delegates in time for the convention.

(Interesting. I know...you think I'm nuts. But just watch. When will you learn to trust your pal, Andrea?)

Meanwhile, I see Hillary's in the corner in her red/white/blue fight pantsuit, doing kneebends. Somethin's happenin. Watch. Look.

Now.

Do you Democrats see why I don't want to squander the most monumental moment this nation has, that of electing a African American to the presidency on a fake--a set up by a bunch of power mad, local amateurs? It's bad enough when it happens to the white community, sometimes. Not often. Sometimes.

For the Democrats to survive this it's way too important for all of us, especially to the children of this country, because of the failure of leadership both in government and in media circles to promote what we hope will be a post race culture. But first you have to tell us what that--post race--is.

Perhaps today that's unrealistic. A little too soon maybe? As long as any generation breathes who recalls the humiliation of separate facilities, it remains the responsibility of the current generations to help remember or at least recall.

FYI, I remember seeing black and white restrooms in Miami and Montgomery and Little Rock. They happened.

I, a little girl from Kansas City, was pretty darned shocked at how they treated black folks down there in the south back on that vacation. I thought it was awful and I didn't quite get it but I went along with it which I don't like about myself. White guilt.

K.C. was a liberal town. I didn't know any better. I was 12-years old. All I knew about black people was the Kansas City Athletics, and KC jazz, Lucille, our cleaning lady who loved me and William, our neighbor's man who helped her through thick and thin and everyone seemed happy, the men on the trolly who tooks us downtown. I didn't know about segregation. I was just a kid. Black people were part of my life.

When we moved to the country I was shocked at the acceptance of the N word and the bigotry that was displayed by these farm people, country people--my classmates-- who had probably never ever seen a black person. I never understood it. Where had such an attitude come from? I realize now we lived on the border of Kansas and Missouri and a lot of those folks had kin with southern sympathies.

I always had to laugh at these small farm town "aristocrats." And vice versa, I assure you. I was the city kid. I was never accepted. Of course, they were all related to each other so you could never say anything about anyone.

My family's religious background, Methodist, Quaker and Disciples of Christ provided our understanding of human relations and civil rights, so I guess I came by it naturally. Still. I had a hard time understanding the shocking outward display of racism in this middlewest classroom. I can't remember if anyone stopped it. They must have.

Jesse Jackson and the bosses and it is for me to ever, ever be that stupid. I can't help it. I didn't know any better. It was 1958. But I found out what it was about later because of the MLKs, Jesse Jacksons of the world. Not people like Obama.

I even shook Martin Luther King, Jr's hand when I was 17.

Post race? Is it the language that is objectionable to Reverend Jackson and the old guard? It may be. I don't really understand what post race means. Does that mean Barack's just going to drink white wine or whisky (Kentucky so it's without the e) from Waterford which he learned from his nouveau rich black friends who haven't even seen a dirty American ghetto street?

So, if the old black men and women feel they've been abandoned, who can blame them if the Obamaites use these stupid expressions? For the rest of us, it's downright impossible to join the discussion in good faith when you've got a bunch of Islamic terrorists breathing down your neck, you've got a guy whose Dad comes from Kenya and whose background is so complicated you can't even talk about it without being called a warmonger or racist, who sounds like such an effete and seems so untested and is running as their candidate for president.

All around, it just seems like a gyp for the American people, somehow. I understand how they feel. Maybe this is about age.

It's really nothing personal about Senator Obama. I've figured that out, by now.

I just feel like we're being duped somehow. The more I research the more I know this isn't what America really wants. Somethin's happening. I don't like how it feels. It's the psychic thing this time.

Thanks for the read.

"Obama can kiss my ass" says President Clinton whose heart is really in the USA with Hillary

He must have convinced himself oh, why not--I'm off to Europe! After all, Ben Franklin spent years there. So did Adams. Obviously, Jefferson, the namesake. Heck, I may not come back till the elections. I'll even swear a little and speak my mind.

Indeed, Hillary must have thrown rose petals on the brick of her Chattaqua breezeway as she paraded Bill out to his waiting limo headed to NY.

For there he is these days, across the pond in Europe attending chic birthday parties for his pal, Nelson Mandela, sunning himself with his friends along the coast of Italy or on Fantasy Island enjoying soy gelatina. Maybe he's sipping a low-fat latte on the bow of the yacht of one of those zillionaire best friends of his. It must be heaven cruising the blue Med this time of year, just loverly, tres bon, cool as a moose and life as a former president, this former president is fast lane plus plus plus plus.

Even for this carefree, hedonistic ex-President, however, I'll just bet...

Life isn't all beer and skittles
Not when you've been through as much as the Clintons, self-induced as some of it was.

The recent damning Vanity Fair article, Chris Matthews and his preoccupation with making Hillary a laughing stock, then trying to make up by giving her my Thathchership Award and MSNBC in general, CNN and Bill O'Reilly notwithstanding, in addition to the gossip columns, I too can't help but wonder about the institutional side of things. In addition to their political aspirations and motivations I often wonder about their humanity, their daughter and their lives. They are interesting forces of nature. Besides, I'm a snoop.

Do they have separate but equal lives? They must. Of course, she works! I am amazed at the woman's energy.

Are they married in the biblical sense? A lot of people are but aren't if you know what I mean.

Do they love each other? I think they must. Even the cynic in me says so. There are aspects of our partners that regardless of their habits we still adore if we've hung long enough to get over the bad parts! I love that!

Bill Clinton and his honor
Meanwhile, if I were Bill Clinton, I would be so outraged at the way my wife was treated, I'd probably bring the power of all I had (which is a lot) down on those who betrayed me-first-and then on the kid. But then, I'm a Leo, just like Bill Clinton. If there's one thing we Leos hate it's betrayal.

By the way, so is Barack. A Leo, I mean.

This isn't over; not a by a long shot. Watch the Old Lion. As he plays and lolls in the shade and looks longingly at the lionesses, he's thinking about how to fix this for his own pride at home. He's mad and his paw hurts, judging from what he said about calling Barack and supporting him.

Political theater at its best!

Thanks for the read.