After watching the Red Sox pitching staff stink up the joint for yet another game and manager John Farrell once again mishandle his bullpen (can you believe this guy was once heralded as a pitching coach?), I figured I’d tune into to watch Bill Clinton’s speech at the national Democratic convention. I’ve never thought much of him as a person but he wasn’t that bad a president. More than anything else, and unlike his wife (who’s the equivalent of fingernails scraping across a chalkboard every time she opens her mouth), he’s always been – at least to these ears – an interesting and engaging speaker, spreading equal amounts of down-home folksy bullshit, policy wonkishness, and purpose into his speeches.
Tonight, however, wasn’t one of his better performances. Physically, there’s little doubt the former Prez has lost more than a little off his fastball, and you could tell as he waxed sentimentally about his marriage to Hillary he was really laying it on thick, the bullshit really flying. He obviously seemed to be enjoying himself being once again back in the spotlight – who wouldn’t? – but only the most rabid Clinton supporter could believe half the crap he was saying.
Me? I would have found his speech far more interesting if he had been just a tad more honest about their relationship – after all, everyone knows they’ve been traveling in separate circles for years, reserving their increasingly-forced interactions together and demonstrations of a working marriage only for those occasions and causes that serve their individual interests most. But I guess that would have been asking too much: he was given a job to do, and the good soldier (if not good husband) he is, he did it.
Following Bill’s speech came that absolutely cringe-worthy, subtle-as-a-sledge-hammer montage of male presidents making way for the inevitable, animated panel of glass shattering to reveal a smiling Hillary in what looked to me like a red Chairman Mao suit, smiling down on a convention hall left only half-full following a mass exodus of Bernie Sanders supporters earlier. It was as if we were watching a live version of Strawberry Fields, where nothing is real. Because there was little about the proceedings that seemed real. Heck, even Hillary’s supposed “live” appearance wasn’t!
All this turned out to be was a Clinton love-fest put on solely for the Clinton faithful, by the Clinton faithful. Forget the protests going on outside the arena. Forget the 700-800 Bernie supporters who had their access passes revoked for the remainder of the convention. Forget Hillary’s e-mail server woes. Forget Benghazi. Forget the WikiLeaks scandal illustrating the way the DNC truly operates. This was the act you’ve all known for so many years, back again for another encore. And who knows? If Hillary can get in the White House, perhaps they can start grooming Chelsea to take us through another generation of Clinton scandals and corruption that follows them around like the scent of a skunk.
Watching Hillary’s videotaped comments I couldn’t help but think that after all this time, is this the best the Democrats can do? Another reprise of the Clinton years? There’s no other talent out there? Two old has-beens talking the same and acting the same, only this time using their Democratic Party privileges to shove the fact that Hillary’s a woman, and fighting – yes, fighting! – for every women and child out there because, after all, only Hillary with all that experience as a former First Lady, former senator from New York, former failed presidential candidate, and former Secretary of State is truly capable of knowing what it means to be a woman, and therefore fight for the issues that women can only truly know and care about.
It wasn’t just the Bernie supporters who were missing from the evening; it was the overwhelming sense that Bill and every other male in that hall were there solely as to be subservient to Hillary and her vision for America. Because, frankly, as far as she’s concerned, males (especially white ones) don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. They’re only there to prop her up and present a picture of her that begs credulity. As a woman, this is her time, she deserves this, she’s entitled to it, and the hell with everyone else. Her race will be run by the Clintons and for the Clintons, no one else. And anyone who dare show disloyalty – are you listening, Bernie supporters? – well, you can go find yourself another rodeo.
Unfortunately for Hillary, she’s no Bill, and never was. Which is why I’m having a hard time seeing how Hillary’s beyond phony and tired act will resonate among women. She’s a child of the ’60s, after all, and while her brand of feminism might play to a half-filled convention hall filled with Party insiders, I’m having a hard time believing it will resonate much beyond the Party faithful. And no amount of mainstream media ass-kissing – of which you can there will be copious amounts of in the coming weeks and months – is going to change that come November.
