Category: Doris O’Brien

Is Michelle's 'true voice' Telling Her to Run for President?


In the biblical Song of Solomon, the voice of the turtle(dove) is a sign of Spring. But in the siren call of Michelle Obama — who emerged last week from her nine-million-dollar beltway mansion to deliver a speech in Boston — the voice of the lady birds who voted for Trump is a sign of Fall — the fall of womankind, to be exact.

Being every bit the scold as her husband, Michelle verbally attacked those she thinks deserve it most: the women who dared to vote for Donald Trump. This is not a small group, moreover, since Trump garnered 52% of the women’s vote compared to Hillary’s 54%. The husbands of both former First Ladies fared much better with the ladies. So the discrepancy is assumed to have something to do with the sex of the candidate.

Not that Michelle is likely to seriously know any of the ladies she chastises, since her gal pals are all rock-ribbed liberals. I doubt if she predicted that the pushback against her remarks would be so swift and sincere. 

The most important line of Michelle’s diatribe was this: “Any woman who voted against Hillary Clinton voted against their own voice.” She went on to say that “we look at those two candidates as women and many of us said, ‘That guy. He’s better for me. His voice is more true to me. Well, to me that just says you don’t like your voice.”

As far as I’m concerned, she might as well have been speaking in tongues. At the very least, she could have come hewed to conventional noun-pronoun agreement as well as logical consistency in the tense of her verbs. But Ms. Obama is no silver-tongued orator like her husband. In her ability to work up ire among some voters, in fact, she seems to be more like The Donald than like Barack.

When president Trump “colorfully” chastised a few NFL players for “taking a knee” during the national anthem, the press pounced on him as a racist intent on denying caring people the right to their own opinions. But when Michelle Obama insulted every woman who voted Republican in the last election as being pawns incapable of recognizing their own best interests, the press ate it up.

It has been that way since the surprising results of the last election. The most insulting things shouted out by those on the Left are given a free pass. It’s “free speech, after all. Not content to call Trump supporters “deplorables” during her campaign, Hillary has since labeled them “trolls” responsible for denying her victory. Now Ms. Obama has taken this accusation one step further to suggest that these same women not only betrayed the candidate, they betrayed themselves, their better judgment, and their principled “voice.”

If a female Republican candidate were running for the presidency, Michelle would find it wholly acceptable to vote for her Democrat male opponent. There would be no rhetoric about “true voices” and the unconscionable abandonment thereof. So it isn’t the gender issue, alone, that is prompting Michelle to lecture recalcitrant women.

Nor could it be her belated desire to toot Hillary’s fading horn. The Obamas have never been particularly fond of the Clintons, and they hardly went “all out” during her campaign

So why is Michelle now wearing her allegiance on her sleeve? As I see it, her intention is largely self-serving. This may not be apparent yet, but the “true voice” in my head tells me she is gearing up to be her own woman and run for her own public office. Thus it becomes imperative for her to advise females everywhere that, were she to need their support, she clearly expects to get it. One mistake is enough, she would argue. Tune out the bad voices and listen to hers.

In fact, the political reality is there could be a number of reasons why Michelle might be a Democrat candidate. In January, when the Obama administration ended, a Gallup Poll found she topped both her husband and Joe Biden with a 68% favorable rating. This falls just short of Laura Bush’s when she left the East Wing of the White House. But it is more than 20% higher than Clinton when she did. 

This could change when and if Michelle climbed into the political ring, but it’s currently to her advantage. And since the prospects in a Democratic field of candidates represent slim pickings and, in some cases, an overripe yield, she should not be written off.

During her terms as First Lady, Michelle chose popular causes to champion, like serving nutritional school lunches and cultivating home vegetable gardens, though there is no present evidence to suggest she is spading the earth around her new digs. Instead, her most recent involvement with “dirt“ goes no further than throwing it at women whose politics are different from her own. Even if my inner voice were to tell me to plant rows of beans and broccoli and put them in lunch pails, I’m sure I would not meet with Michelle’s approval.

It would seem, in fact, that Mrs. Obama is moving on from a past of counting calories to a future of counting votes. And she is well aware that support from the usual constituencies will not be enough for the Democrats to regain the White House. It certainly wasn’t for Hillary last time. So it behooves Michelle to get errant women who voted for Trump to next time vote for a woman. And it might be her.

Another reason Michelle might listen to the voices telling her to run for office is because one of them is her husband’s. Barack Obama would like nothing better than to see his wife become the first female president of the United States. He’s as eager to get back into the White House as Bill Clinton was. He is already deeply involved in a shadow government that recognizes him as the legitimate leader of his party. A tantalizing taste of frosting on the political cake would be the ability of the Obamas to pull off something the Clintons could not.

And how could Michelle propel herself to a shot at the presidency? The same way Hillary did. Run first for U.S. Senate in a state she could easily win. Chances are that would be Illinois, her home state, but carpetbagging in other liberal territory is not out of the question.

When I suggest to my liberal friends that Michelle might have intentions of becoming a political figure in her own right, they assure me she’s not so inclined. But these are the same folks who told me Donald Trump had no path to becoming Potus. So why would I listen to their voices?

Dick Durbin has been commuting to Washington D.C. from the Land of Lincoln for the past 35 years. He’s currently the second-ranking Democrat, having been reelected to his fourth Senate term in 2014. That means, if he’s so inclined, he would be up for reelection again in 2020

Could it be that Michelle Obama is be planning to run for a congressional seat somewhere in Illinois next year and then run for Senate in 2020 replace or challenge aging Durbin for his seat, which, assuming she won, would put her in the catbird seat for the 2024 presidential bid.

If the 2016 elections told us anything, it‘s that anything is possible.

In the meantime, Michelle is beginning to sound her megaphone. Even if her last garbled message resulted in somewhat of an uproar, she’s a woman who bears watching. 

In the biblical Song of Solomon, the voice of the turtle(dove) is a sign of Spring. But in the siren call of Michelle Obama — who emerged last week from her nine-million-dollar beltway mansion to deliver a speech in Boston — the voice of the lady birds who voted for Trump is a sign of Fall — the fall of womankind, to be exact.

Being every bit the scold as her husband, Michelle verbally attacked those she thinks deserve it most: the women who dared to vote for Donald Trump. This is not a small group, moreover, since Trump garnered 52% of the women’s vote compared to Hillary’s 54%. The husbands of both former First Ladies fared much better with the ladies. So the discrepancy is assumed to have something to do with the sex of the candidate.

Not that Michelle is likely to seriously know any of the ladies she chastises, since her gal pals are all rock-ribbed liberals. I doubt if she predicted that the pushback against her remarks would be so swift and sincere. 

The most important line of Michelle’s diatribe was this: “Any woman who voted against Hillary Clinton voted against their own voice.” She went on to say that “we look at those two candidates as women and many of us said, ‘That guy. He’s better for me. His voice is more true to me. Well, to me that just says you don’t like your voice.”

As far as I’m concerned, she might as well have been speaking in tongues. At the very least, she could have come hewed to conventional noun-pronoun agreement as well as logical consistency in the tense of her verbs. But Ms. Obama is no silver-tongued orator like her husband. In her ability to work up ire among some voters, in fact, she seems to be more like The Donald than like Barack.

When president Trump “colorfully” chastised a few NFL players for “taking a knee” during the national anthem, the press pounced on him as a racist intent on denying caring people the right to their own opinions. But when Michelle Obama insulted every woman who voted Republican in the last election as being pawns incapable of recognizing their own best interests, the press ate it up.

It has been that way since the surprising results of the last election. The most insulting things shouted out by those on the Left are given a free pass. It’s “free speech, after all. Not content to call Trump supporters “deplorables” during her campaign, Hillary has since labeled them “trolls” responsible for denying her victory. Now Ms. Obama has taken this accusation one step further to suggest that these same women not only betrayed the candidate, they betrayed themselves, their better judgment, and their principled “voice.”

If a female Republican candidate were running for the presidency, Michelle would find it wholly acceptable to vote for her Democrat male opponent. There would be no rhetoric about “true voices” and the unconscionable abandonment thereof. So it isn’t the gender issue, alone, that is prompting Michelle to lecture recalcitrant women.

Nor could it be her belated desire to toot Hillary’s fading horn. The Obamas have never been particularly fond of the Clintons, and they hardly went “all out” during her campaign

So why is Michelle now wearing her allegiance on her sleeve? As I see it, her intention is largely self-serving. This may not be apparent yet, but the “true voice” in my head tells me she is gearing up to be her own woman and run for her own public office. Thus it becomes imperative for her to advise females everywhere that, were she to need their support, she clearly expects to get it. One mistake is enough, she would argue. Tune out the bad voices and listen to hers.

In fact, the political reality is there could be a number of reasons why Michelle might be a Democrat candidate. In January, when the Obama administration ended, a Gallup Poll found she topped both her husband and Joe Biden with a 68% favorable rating. This falls just short of Laura Bush’s when she left the East Wing of the White House. But it is more than 20% higher than Clinton when she did. 

This could change when and if Michelle climbed into the political ring, but it’s currently to her advantage. And since the prospects in a Democratic field of candidates represent slim pickings and, in some cases, an overripe yield, she should not be written off.

During her terms as First Lady, Michelle chose popular causes to champion, like serving nutritional school lunches and cultivating home vegetable gardens, though there is no present evidence to suggest she is spading the earth around her new digs. Instead, her most recent involvement with “dirt“ goes no further than throwing it at women whose politics are different from her own. Even if my inner voice were to tell me to plant rows of beans and broccoli and put them in lunch pails, I’m sure I would not meet with Michelle’s approval.

It would seem, in fact, that Mrs. Obama is moving on from a past of counting calories to a future of counting votes. And she is well aware that support from the usual constituencies will not be enough for the Democrats to regain the White House. It certainly wasn’t for Hillary last time. So it behooves Michelle to get errant women who voted for Trump to next time vote for a woman. And it might be her.

Another reason Michelle might listen to the voices telling her to run for office is because one of them is her husband’s. Barack Obama would like nothing better than to see his wife become the first female president of the United States. He’s as eager to get back into the White House as Bill Clinton was. He is already deeply involved in a shadow government that recognizes him as the legitimate leader of his party. A tantalizing taste of frosting on the political cake would be the ability of the Obamas to pull off something the Clintons could not.

And how could Michelle propel herself to a shot at the presidency? The same way Hillary did. Run first for U.S. Senate in a state she could easily win. Chances are that would be Illinois, her home state, but carpetbagging in other liberal territory is not out of the question.

When I suggest to my liberal friends that Michelle might have intentions of becoming a political figure in her own right, they assure me she’s not so inclined. But these are the same folks who told me Donald Trump had no path to becoming Potus. So why would I listen to their voices?

Dick Durbin has been commuting to Washington D.C. from the Land of Lincoln for the past 35 years. He’s currently the second-ranking Democrat, having been reelected to his fourth Senate term in 2014. That means, if he’s so inclined, he would be up for reelection again in 2020

Could it be that Michelle Obama is be planning to run for a congressional seat somewhere in Illinois next year and then run for Senate in 2020 replace or challenge aging Durbin for his seat, which, assuming she won, would put her in the catbird seat for the 2024 presidential bid.

If the 2016 elections told us anything, it‘s that anything is possible.

In the meantime, Michelle is beginning to sound her megaphone. Even if her last garbled message resulted in somewhat of an uproar, she’s a woman who bears watching. 



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The Cruise: One Yankee Lady Takes on 3,999 Brits


What do you get when you put one American on a British cruise ship with over 4,000 citizens of the U.K.?  Answer: a lot of questions about Donald Trump.

The population worldwide has gone bananas – “ba-nah-nahs,” as the Brits would say – over The Donald.  From the Thames to Timbuktu, it seems folks are either mad at the president of the United States or mad for him.  On this “matter,” very few straddle the fence.  And as for the fence, itself – the one proposed along the southern border of the United States – it, too, is hardly a neutral subject.

Let’s just say that rarely could the reaction to either Donald Trump’s persona or his proposals be characterized as nonchalant.  Regardless of how apolitical his armchair critics may profess to be, or how remote from America’s unique political system they reside, all creatures great and small appear to have an opinion about the current occupant of the White House.

It is irrelevant how I happened to be the lone Yank on a British cruise ship during a fortnight that ironically included the Fourth of July.  In spite of my apparent telltale American accent – or perhaps because of it – I was generally chatted up as a sort of floating curiosity.

Before the voyage, I had harbored the faux hope that I wouldn’t be spotted as a colonist, at least not immediately.  Yet as soon as I opened my mouth, I was repeatedly asked what part of America I came from and what I thought of Donald Trump.

Keep in mind that the British press is as liberal as our own.  On the day I flew home from Southampton, London’s Sunday newspapers were bristling with criticism concerning President Trump’s “defense of Western civilization speech” in Poland.  Commentators huffed that he had cast a pall over the G-20 conference by failing to fall in lockstep with other world leaders.  One editorial writer opined that Trump’s “sacking” of the FBI chief was further proof of the dictatorship America had suddenly – shockingly – become.

But as is the case here at home, it became quickly apparent to me that the citizens of the United Kingdom are very much divided over the direction in which their own country is going. Still, several of those I talked with seemed visibly surprised by my defense of our sitting president.  After all, educated women were assumed to have constituted the bulk of Hillary’s support.

Some Brits had also bought into reports of general unrest in the States since Trump’s surprising victory.  There were misconceptions, as well, about Obamacare, which many presumed to be much like their own government-financed health program.  They needed reminding that the United States, with a population of 330 million, must shoulder the burden of a far more costly system, one that consumes one sixth of our economy, enrolls only about 10% of our population, and has not performed as promised.

Eyes predictably glaze over when one gets into the weeds of political theory.  Cruisers don’t mind a challengingly burnished crust on their crème brûlée, but servings of factual details are harder to digest.  And since most of the palaver with strangers took place around a dinner table, on queues, or during lulls in attractions on a sight-seeing bus, the banter tended to remain general – and generally polite.  Despite being on international waters, I still felt like an guest in a land other than my own.

On only one occasion did I resort to biting my tongue.  During dinner with a small group of businesspeople associated with the cruise, one of the men – an Austrian-born owner of a costume company – loudly expressed his disdain for Trump, branding him disgusting, ambitious, immoral, and totally unqualified for the office to which the red-necked masses of America had elected him.  Had I not risked embarrassing others by rising to his bait, I could have reminded him of how less righteously indignant his Austrian ancestors were toward the Fuhrer, a fellow Austrian, when his German army, facing scant opposition, triumphantly invaded the homeland.

Over my fortnight of cruising, it became clear to me that those Brits who had favored Brexit also gave Donald Trump the benefit of the doubt.  Those who hadn’t didn’t.  I even began suggesting that without Britain’s bold break from the European Union, the Trump phenomenon might never have happened.

Once broached, political discussion can widen in surprising ways.  The reserved Brits, known to hold outsiders at arm’s length, embraced this American as a kindred political spirit or even as a sparring mate.  In any event, the dikes of resistance caved under a flood of curiosity.

In fact, they expressed many of the same concerns and frustrations as those living on the other side of the pond.  The influx of immigrants, for example, was a big concern, largely because it seemed to be getting out of hand.  I was told many times that the British educational system is not up to the standards it used to be.  Concerns were voiced about how the next generations of English subjects would cope.  I began to feel vibes of U.K self-awareness not unlike that of Trump’s “put America first.”  And, of course, they are much closer than we are to the migrant crises in Europe.

But there was little doubt as to the deep love held by the British for what Lord Byron called their “tight little island,” even as they, like the poet, sailed south to sunnier climes.  One passenger from Yorkshire told me he had been many times to the Caribbean and the Mediterranean, but never once to Scotland.  “We don’t travel north,” he joked.

One balmy afternoon, as our massive vessel streamed out of the port of Gibraltar, hundreds of passengers crowded onto the upper decks, waving plastic British flags and belting out songs like “Rule Britannia” and “Why, oh, why, Delilah?”

I was impressed by this show of patriotism, and it occurred to me that it might be the thing that would ultimately pull a country through to victory against those who would do it harm.  I worry that there may not be enough of that deep-rooted patriotic fervor left in my own country in these perilous times.

Regardless of their opinions or motives, my fellow travelers deserve praise for showing interest in the head of a country other than their own.  I wonder how many Americans, if queried, would have any inkling, for example, as to the identity of Theresa May.  Britain’s “royals,” not her politicians, rule the airwaves here.  But then again, I imagine that Donald Trump wouldn’t mind some of that “royal treatment,” either.

What do you get when you put one American on a British cruise ship with over 4,000 citizens of the U.K.?  Answer: a lot of questions about Donald Trump.

The population worldwide has gone bananas – “ba-nah-nahs,” as the Brits would say – over The Donald.  From the Thames to Timbuktu, it seems folks are either mad at the president of the United States or mad for him.  On this “matter,” very few straddle the fence.  And as for the fence, itself – the one proposed along the southern border of the United States – it, too, is hardly a neutral subject.

Let’s just say that rarely could the reaction to either Donald Trump’s persona or his proposals be characterized as nonchalant.  Regardless of how apolitical his armchair critics may profess to be, or how remote from America’s unique political system they reside, all creatures great and small appear to have an opinion about the current occupant of the White House.

It is irrelevant how I happened to be the lone Yank on a British cruise ship during a fortnight that ironically included the Fourth of July.  In spite of my apparent telltale American accent – or perhaps because of it – I was generally chatted up as a sort of floating curiosity.

Before the voyage, I had harbored the faux hope that I wouldn’t be spotted as a colonist, at least not immediately.  Yet as soon as I opened my mouth, I was repeatedly asked what part of America I came from and what I thought of Donald Trump.

Keep in mind that the British press is as liberal as our own.  On the day I flew home from Southampton, London’s Sunday newspapers were bristling with criticism concerning President Trump’s “defense of Western civilization speech” in Poland.  Commentators huffed that he had cast a pall over the G-20 conference by failing to fall in lockstep with other world leaders.  One editorial writer opined that Trump’s “sacking” of the FBI chief was further proof of the dictatorship America had suddenly – shockingly – become.

But as is the case here at home, it became quickly apparent to me that the citizens of the United Kingdom are very much divided over the direction in which their own country is going. Still, several of those I talked with seemed visibly surprised by my defense of our sitting president.  After all, educated women were assumed to have constituted the bulk of Hillary’s support.

Some Brits had also bought into reports of general unrest in the States since Trump’s surprising victory.  There were misconceptions, as well, about Obamacare, which many presumed to be much like their own government-financed health program.  They needed reminding that the United States, with a population of 330 million, must shoulder the burden of a far more costly system, one that consumes one sixth of our economy, enrolls only about 10% of our population, and has not performed as promised.

Eyes predictably glaze over when one gets into the weeds of political theory.  Cruisers don’t mind a challengingly burnished crust on their crème brûlée, but servings of factual details are harder to digest.  And since most of the palaver with strangers took place around a dinner table, on queues, or during lulls in attractions on a sight-seeing bus, the banter tended to remain general – and generally polite.  Despite being on international waters, I still felt like an guest in a land other than my own.

On only one occasion did I resort to biting my tongue.  During dinner with a small group of businesspeople associated with the cruise, one of the men – an Austrian-born owner of a costume company – loudly expressed his disdain for Trump, branding him disgusting, ambitious, immoral, and totally unqualified for the office to which the red-necked masses of America had elected him.  Had I not risked embarrassing others by rising to his bait, I could have reminded him of how less righteously indignant his Austrian ancestors were toward the Fuhrer, a fellow Austrian, when his German army, facing scant opposition, triumphantly invaded the homeland.

Over my fortnight of cruising, it became clear to me that those Brits who had favored Brexit also gave Donald Trump the benefit of the doubt.  Those who hadn’t didn’t.  I even began suggesting that without Britain’s bold break from the European Union, the Trump phenomenon might never have happened.

Once broached, political discussion can widen in surprising ways.  The reserved Brits, known to hold outsiders at arm’s length, embraced this American as a kindred political spirit or even as a sparring mate.  In any event, the dikes of resistance caved under a flood of curiosity.

In fact, they expressed many of the same concerns and frustrations as those living on the other side of the pond.  The influx of immigrants, for example, was a big concern, largely because it seemed to be getting out of hand.  I was told many times that the British educational system is not up to the standards it used to be.  Concerns were voiced about how the next generations of English subjects would cope.  I began to feel vibes of U.K self-awareness not unlike that of Trump’s “put America first.”  And, of course, they are much closer than we are to the migrant crises in Europe.

But there was little doubt as to the deep love held by the British for what Lord Byron called their “tight little island,” even as they, like the poet, sailed south to sunnier climes.  One passenger from Yorkshire told me he had been many times to the Caribbean and the Mediterranean, but never once to Scotland.  “We don’t travel north,” he joked.

One balmy afternoon, as our massive vessel streamed out of the port of Gibraltar, hundreds of passengers crowded onto the upper decks, waving plastic British flags and belting out songs like “Rule Britannia” and “Why, oh, why, Delilah?”

I was impressed by this show of patriotism, and it occurred to me that it might be the thing that would ultimately pull a country through to victory against those who would do it harm.  I worry that there may not be enough of that deep-rooted patriotic fervor left in my own country in these perilous times.

Regardless of their opinions or motives, my fellow travelers deserve praise for showing interest in the head of a country other than their own.  I wonder how many Americans, if queried, would have any inkling, for example, as to the identity of Theresa May.  Britain’s “royals,” not her politicians, rule the airwaves here.  But then again, I imagine that Donald Trump wouldn’t mind some of that “royal treatment,” either.



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Hillary: No Class, and No Class Cheer


I did not return to my alma mater to hear Hillary Rodham Clinton deliver her commencement address to the Wellesley Class of 2017.  Nor did I – in the manner of my more liberal alumnae friends here on the West Coast – opt to rise very early on the morning of Friday, May 26 to catch a live broadcast of it.

Even had I been so inclined, I figured I pretty well knew what Hillary would say in that much anticipated talk to a largely partisan crowd of graduates, their parents, and their well-wishers.  To some extent, I was wrong.

Let’s put it this way: the most incisive post-speech comment on Secretary Clinton’s performance came from one of my Wellesley classmates, who said simply, “Hillary never did have any class.”  And on top of that, Mrs. Clinton was quick to admit to her blasé audience that her class didn’t have any class cheer, either.

I’m not sure why Wellesley’s most famous alumna bothered to bring this up.  Perhaps it was an ice-breaker, certainly one preferable to her ensuing coughing fit, popped lozenge, and gulp of bottled water.  It remains a mystery why and how Hillary’s class had gotten away with such a singular lapse of tradition at a college so steeped in it.  Surely back then one of Hillary’s classmates – perhaps she herself – could have come up with a suitable cheer.  Or had they all become young allies of radical Saul Alinsky, leaving them little to cheer about?

As for the “class cheer” itself, every entering Wellesley class is assigned a color – red, green, purple, or yellow.  All the paraphernalia associated with a class – banners, beanies, pendants, logos, etc. – are done up in that particular shade.  When alumnae return to their designated reunions, they march with their class in descending numerical order in a festive Alumnae Parade, sporting some item in their class color.  It might be, say, a purple feather boa, strings of yellow glass beads, a red umbrella , or a bright blue tote bag.

At the conclusion of this colorful procession, each class, in turn, belts out its brief class cheer while marching past the college president.  To avoid possible repercussions by using “real” class cheers, I have hastily composed the following to show how simple the exercise is, and how potentially unoriginal.

Suggestion for a “yellow” class:

1999 Wellesley, rah!

1-9-9-9 Wellesley!

Go for gold, ’99!

Dreams unfold, ’99!

1-9-9-9 Wellesley!

Hillary’s class, like the one that graduated this year, is green.  With all the ecological consciousness, the color offers countless possibilities.  So it could have been:

1969 Wellesley, rah!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!

Keep Earth green, ’69!

Squeaky-clean, ’69!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!

You get the drift.  But Hillary didn’t linger long on that bit of shared amusement.  The rest of the laughs resulted from her blatant attacks on the man in the White House, even as he was representing our country in negotiations overseas.  Was anyone really surprised by the body blows she leveled at Trump, campaign-style, in front of a sympathetic audience whose numbers outstripped those attending most of her campaign rallies?

Equally anticipated was Hillary’s declaration of sheer joy at being back “to celebrate with the college.”  This wasn’t quite true, of course, since she would much rather have been at the dedication of the new NATO headquarters in Brussels and then on to Sicily with her own entourage for the G-7 conference.

Whether she is running for office or from humiliation, returning to the bosom of Wellesley has always been a win-win situation for Hillary.  Her hair isn’t as long and straggly as it was 48 years ago, but she can still let it down on campus with a largely adoring crowd.  Maybe that’s why she made the inane comment about Wellesley coeds frequently changing their hairstyles as well as their majors.  And there was the usual self-deprecation that reeked of self-pity.  Mrs. Clinton will say anything to those who believe anything she says.

Inanity soon gave way to inanity.  In a show of bitter defiance, Hillary probed the depths of her own recent disappointment, massaging it into a warning to young graduates about the dangers that lie ahead.  There was far more grudge than grace in Hillary’s remarks, more pessimism and discouragement for her own past than optimism and encouragement for the futures of her young listeners.  And little evidence that she would be passing along the political baton anytime soon.

Rhetorically lacking in either humility or soul-searching, Hillary presented herself as an advocate for revenge.  This time, the amorphous culprits were not “deplorables,” but “trolls,” who thwart the talents and ambitions of deserving women.  To the list of the usual suspects blamed for her defeat – Comey, Russia, Trump, and misogyny – she added the “suppression” of voting in Wisconsin, a state she chose not to campaign in.

Were I a bright-eyed graduating senior, I would have preferred Hillary to talk more about, say, debt than regret.  I would hope she’d embrace the immediate future with a message more positive than the impeachment of a sitting president whom Hillary and her clueless team had grossly underestimated.

Wellesley’s new president, Paula Johnson, introduced Hillary as a woman who has always made the impossible possible.  The opposite has more generally been the case.  And the clearest example was Election 2016, when all signs pointed to the real possibility of her being the first female president of our country.  Then came the impossibility – and the search for scapegoats ever since.

Hillary’s longtime bond with her alma mater is perhaps best understood by parallels in her last and first commencement speeches.  I was in the audience all those years ago when then-Hillary Rodham represented her graduating class by delivering a searing – and highly embarrassing – indictment of the commencement speaker, Senator Edward Brooke of Massachusetts.

Brooke, a self-made man, a decorated war hero, and the first black U.S. senator popularly elected to the United States Senate since Reconstruction days, had been invited by the College to deliver that year’s commencement address.  None of this mattered to the student spokesperson, because Brooke was also a Republican.  Hillary dissed the gentlemen and dismissed his vision of the world.

Now, almost a half-century later, Hillary Clinton’s engine runs on the same self-serving fuel – not the balm of equality for race or gender or economic condition, but the polluting octane of progressive politics.  And she is still determined to drive over anyone who gets in her way.

That considered, perhaps the Class of ’69 could agree to this belated class cheer:

1969 Wellesley, rah!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!

Hear our anger as we vent!

Hillary for president!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!

I did not return to my alma mater to hear Hillary Rodham Clinton deliver her commencement address to the Wellesley Class of 2017.  Nor did I – in the manner of my more liberal alumnae friends here on the West Coast – opt to rise very early on the morning of Friday, May 26 to catch a live broadcast of it.

Even had I been so inclined, I figured I pretty well knew what Hillary would say in that much anticipated talk to a largely partisan crowd of graduates, their parents, and their well-wishers.  To some extent, I was wrong.

Let’s put it this way: the most incisive post-speech comment on Secretary Clinton’s performance came from one of my Wellesley classmates, who said simply, “Hillary never did have any class.”  And on top of that, Mrs. Clinton was quick to admit to her blasé audience that her class didn’t have any class cheer, either.

I’m not sure why Wellesley’s most famous alumna bothered to bring this up.  Perhaps it was an ice-breaker, certainly one preferable to her ensuing coughing fit, popped lozenge, and gulp of bottled water.  It remains a mystery why and how Hillary’s class had gotten away with such a singular lapse of tradition at a college so steeped in it.  Surely back then one of Hillary’s classmates – perhaps she herself – could have come up with a suitable cheer.  Or had they all become young allies of radical Saul Alinsky, leaving them little to cheer about?

As for the “class cheer” itself, every entering Wellesley class is assigned a color – red, green, purple, or yellow.  All the paraphernalia associated with a class – banners, beanies, pendants, logos, etc. – are done up in that particular shade.  When alumnae return to their designated reunions, they march with their class in descending numerical order in a festive Alumnae Parade, sporting some item in their class color.  It might be, say, a purple feather boa, strings of yellow glass beads, a red umbrella , or a bright blue tote bag.

At the conclusion of this colorful procession, each class, in turn, belts out its brief class cheer while marching past the college president.  To avoid possible repercussions by using “real” class cheers, I have hastily composed the following to show how simple the exercise is, and how potentially unoriginal.

Suggestion for a “yellow” class:

1999 Wellesley, rah!

1-9-9-9 Wellesley!

Go for gold, ’99!

Dreams unfold, ’99!

1-9-9-9 Wellesley!

Hillary’s class, like the one that graduated this year, is green.  With all the ecological consciousness, the color offers countless possibilities.  So it could have been:

1969 Wellesley, rah!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!

Keep Earth green, ’69!

Squeaky-clean, ’69!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!

You get the drift.  But Hillary didn’t linger long on that bit of shared amusement.  The rest of the laughs resulted from her blatant attacks on the man in the White House, even as he was representing our country in negotiations overseas.  Was anyone really surprised by the body blows she leveled at Trump, campaign-style, in front of a sympathetic audience whose numbers outstripped those attending most of her campaign rallies?

Equally anticipated was Hillary’s declaration of sheer joy at being back “to celebrate with the college.”  This wasn’t quite true, of course, since she would much rather have been at the dedication of the new NATO headquarters in Brussels and then on to Sicily with her own entourage for the G-7 conference.

Whether she is running for office or from humiliation, returning to the bosom of Wellesley has always been a win-win situation for Hillary.  Her hair isn’t as long and straggly as it was 48 years ago, but she can still let it down on campus with a largely adoring crowd.  Maybe that’s why she made the inane comment about Wellesley coeds frequently changing their hairstyles as well as their majors.  And there was the usual self-deprecation that reeked of self-pity.  Mrs. Clinton will say anything to those who believe anything she says.

Inanity soon gave way to inanity.  In a show of bitter defiance, Hillary probed the depths of her own recent disappointment, massaging it into a warning to young graduates about the dangers that lie ahead.  There was far more grudge than grace in Hillary’s remarks, more pessimism and discouragement for her own past than optimism and encouragement for the futures of her young listeners.  And little evidence that she would be passing along the political baton anytime soon.

Rhetorically lacking in either humility or soul-searching, Hillary presented herself as an advocate for revenge.  This time, the amorphous culprits were not “deplorables,” but “trolls,” who thwart the talents and ambitions of deserving women.  To the list of the usual suspects blamed for her defeat – Comey, Russia, Trump, and misogyny – she added the “suppression” of voting in Wisconsin, a state she chose not to campaign in.

Were I a bright-eyed graduating senior, I would have preferred Hillary to talk more about, say, debt than regret.  I would hope she’d embrace the immediate future with a message more positive than the impeachment of a sitting president whom Hillary and her clueless team had grossly underestimated.

Wellesley’s new president, Paula Johnson, introduced Hillary as a woman who has always made the impossible possible.  The opposite has more generally been the case.  And the clearest example was Election 2016, when all signs pointed to the real possibility of her being the first female president of our country.  Then came the impossibility – and the search for scapegoats ever since.

Hillary’s longtime bond with her alma mater is perhaps best understood by parallels in her last and first commencement speeches.  I was in the audience all those years ago when then-Hillary Rodham represented her graduating class by delivering a searing – and highly embarrassing – indictment of the commencement speaker, Senator Edward Brooke of Massachusetts.

Brooke, a self-made man, a decorated war hero, and the first black U.S. senator popularly elected to the United States Senate since Reconstruction days, had been invited by the College to deliver that year’s commencement address.  None of this mattered to the student spokesperson, because Brooke was also a Republican.  Hillary dissed the gentlemen and dismissed his vision of the world.

Now, almost a half-century later, Hillary Clinton’s engine runs on the same self-serving fuel – not the balm of equality for race or gender or economic condition, but the polluting octane of progressive politics.  And she is still determined to drive over anyone who gets in her way.

That considered, perhaps the Class of ’69 could agree to this belated class cheer:

1969 Wellesley, rah!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!

Hear our anger as we vent!

Hillary for president!

1-9-6-9 Wellesley!



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When the Cat's Away, the Rats Will Play


Out of sight, out of mind.  When it’s President Trump who’s far out of sight, the Democrats go even farther out of their minds.

Biased media have all but buried the coverage of Trump’s historic visit to Riyadh, Israel, the Vatican, and Brussels.  The possibility of Arab cooperation, so long jawed about by the Obama administration, is barely acknowledged now that Trump has seized the opportunity to promote it in person.

Finding a strategy for defeating ISIS appears not to be a major concern of the Trump-haters, whose presumed enemy of civilization is what they consider a home-grown terrorist illegitimately hunkering down in the White House.  Trump’s removal from office is at the apex of their aggressive agenda of resistance.  And if his overseas visits go badly, the wished for end of the 45th presidency is all the more likely.

To suit their purposes, the liberal media have shortchanged Trump’s historic agenda in the Middle East and beyond.  Commentary relating to the trip invariably includes remarks to the effect that Arab leaders cannot be trusted, nothing will come of the effort and expense, and Trump is simply cozying up to the bigwigs of Wahhabism, in whose countries human rights are routinely violated.  On the snider side, there have been comments to the effect that First Lady Michelle Obama bested her successor by being the first U.S. chief executive’s wife to appear in that region of the world with her head uncovered.

Fixated progressives, who promote inclusiveness – except when they don’t – can’t seem to grasp the practical fact that alliances are forged not from cultural niceties, but from critical necessities.  We welcomed Russia as an ally in the Second World War, even though Stalin ruled his country with ruthless force, reportedly having been responsible in the long haul for more deaths than Adolf Hitler.  Churchill and Roosevelt knew of Stalin’s treachery.  Yet the civilized world desperately needed his help in our overwhelming struggle against a powerful Nazi regime.

If Allied leaders refrained from being judgmental of Russia’s lapses in human rights, it was likely because they considered it neither the time nor the place.  The same might be said today about any move to chastise the Saudis and others over what we perceive as human rights lapses – or even to go farther by making “reform” a condition of our an alliance to fight Islamic extremism.  When your house is burning, you do not chide the fireman for his sins.

In WWII, the Soviet military demonstrated extraordinary courage and skill.  The Russian people remained remarkably stoic throughout a series of brutal sieges and attacks by the German Army.  More Soviet citizens were killed in that costly war than peoples from any other country.  After the war, the West faced problems with the Soviet regime, but without Russia, it is unclear whether the Allied Forces would have been victorious.

In today’s political environment, the American left fancies itself the world’s moral compass that swings to point a punishing finger of disapproval at those whom it judges to be falling below the left’s own high standards.  Yet Obama fostered foreign friendships in a selective manner predicated less on demonstrable human values than on his own self-serving political criteria.  It was de rigueur to embrace Mexico, for example, even though its corrupt government has over scores of years marginalized its people – a steadfast policy that still encourages mass migrations of illegal immigrants into our country.

Obama considered it “in our best interest” to agree to a treaty with Iran, even though that country is one of the world’s most egregious enablers of terrorism and a violator of human rights.  But let Trump be on the brink of reaching consensus with Arab states in our fight against the worldwide scourge of terror, and Democrats accuse him of consorting with the wrong kind.  Trump has even been judged to have bowed more obsequiously to Arab royalty than Obama did and of looking downright foolish doing a sword dance.  When the president stood at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, he was accused by his critics of putting on a phony 12-second “act” of worship.  In anything pertaining to Trump, his haters do not give an inch.  And as for our country’s succeeding under his administration – frankly, my dear, they don’t give a damn.

The immediate intent of the constant Trump put-downs is to enhance the likelihood of Trump’s so-called “collusion” with the Russians.  The battle against the left’s sworn nemesis has the loyal assistance of a complicit media.  Scorekeepers attest to the fact that more time on CNN and MSNBC was spent this week on speculative Trump-Russia ties than on either Trump’s trip or the Manchester, England concert bombing.  What better time for rat skullduggery than when the chief tabby is somewhere else?

The real shame is that more Americans were not exposed to Trump’s inspiring rhetoric and to his impressive destinations.  What viewers may have missed was not just the majestic pomp and pageantry of these venues, but the heartwarming hospitality and refreshing sense of shared camaraderie and respect.  There was joy – not nasty placards – floating in the air.

The glittering council hall in Riyadh was filled with Arab leaders from across the region eager to see and hear the new American president.  It was a seminal, historic moment reminiscent of others recollected from previous administrations: Nixon’s surprise trip that opened China to the world; JFK’s stirring “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech to the beleaguered people of that divided city; and later, Ronald Reagan’s exhortation for Mr. Gorbachev to “tear down this wall.”

These larger-than-life events stand in contrast to the petulantly narrow hope of Democrat spoilers to characterize Trump as a fool and a puppet of Putin.  While they deliver little more than speculation, leaks, and rumors, the president is making groundbreaking progress with the work of the world.

It’s been said that a combatant can die only once in war, but many times in politics.  It’s uncertain whether Trump has the nine lives of a cat.  But it is clear that the ratfinks who would destroy him have their evil work cut out for them.

Out of sight, out of mind.  When it’s President Trump who’s far out of sight, the Democrats go even farther out of their minds.

Biased media have all but buried the coverage of Trump’s historic visit to Riyadh, Israel, the Vatican, and Brussels.  The possibility of Arab cooperation, so long jawed about by the Obama administration, is barely acknowledged now that Trump has seized the opportunity to promote it in person.

Finding a strategy for defeating ISIS appears not to be a major concern of the Trump-haters, whose presumed enemy of civilization is what they consider a home-grown terrorist illegitimately hunkering down in the White House.  Trump’s removal from office is at the apex of their aggressive agenda of resistance.  And if his overseas visits go badly, the wished for end of the 45th presidency is all the more likely.

To suit their purposes, the liberal media have shortchanged Trump’s historic agenda in the Middle East and beyond.  Commentary relating to the trip invariably includes remarks to the effect that Arab leaders cannot be trusted, nothing will come of the effort and expense, and Trump is simply cozying up to the bigwigs of Wahhabism, in whose countries human rights are routinely violated.  On the snider side, there have been comments to the effect that First Lady Michelle Obama bested her successor by being the first U.S. chief executive’s wife to appear in that region of the world with her head uncovered.

Fixated progressives, who promote inclusiveness – except when they don’t – can’t seem to grasp the practical fact that alliances are forged not from cultural niceties, but from critical necessities.  We welcomed Russia as an ally in the Second World War, even though Stalin ruled his country with ruthless force, reportedly having been responsible in the long haul for more deaths than Adolf Hitler.  Churchill and Roosevelt knew of Stalin’s treachery.  Yet the civilized world desperately needed his help in our overwhelming struggle against a powerful Nazi regime.

If Allied leaders refrained from being judgmental of Russia’s lapses in human rights, it was likely because they considered it neither the time nor the place.  The same might be said today about any move to chastise the Saudis and others over what we perceive as human rights lapses – or even to go farther by making “reform” a condition of our an alliance to fight Islamic extremism.  When your house is burning, you do not chide the fireman for his sins.

In WWII, the Soviet military demonstrated extraordinary courage and skill.  The Russian people remained remarkably stoic throughout a series of brutal sieges and attacks by the German Army.  More Soviet citizens were killed in that costly war than peoples from any other country.  After the war, the West faced problems with the Soviet regime, but without Russia, it is unclear whether the Allied Forces would have been victorious.

In today’s political environment, the American left fancies itself the world’s moral compass that swings to point a punishing finger of disapproval at those whom it judges to be falling below the left’s own high standards.  Yet Obama fostered foreign friendships in a selective manner predicated less on demonstrable human values than on his own self-serving political criteria.  It was de rigueur to embrace Mexico, for example, even though its corrupt government has over scores of years marginalized its people – a steadfast policy that still encourages mass migrations of illegal immigrants into our country.

Obama considered it “in our best interest” to agree to a treaty with Iran, even though that country is one of the world’s most egregious enablers of terrorism and a violator of human rights.  But let Trump be on the brink of reaching consensus with Arab states in our fight against the worldwide scourge of terror, and Democrats accuse him of consorting with the wrong kind.  Trump has even been judged to have bowed more obsequiously to Arab royalty than Obama did and of looking downright foolish doing a sword dance.  When the president stood at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, he was accused by his critics of putting on a phony 12-second “act” of worship.  In anything pertaining to Trump, his haters do not give an inch.  And as for our country’s succeeding under his administration – frankly, my dear, they don’t give a damn.

The immediate intent of the constant Trump put-downs is to enhance the likelihood of Trump’s so-called “collusion” with the Russians.  The battle against the left’s sworn nemesis has the loyal assistance of a complicit media.  Scorekeepers attest to the fact that more time on CNN and MSNBC was spent this week on speculative Trump-Russia ties than on either Trump’s trip or the Manchester, England concert bombing.  What better time for rat skullduggery than when the chief tabby is somewhere else?

The real shame is that more Americans were not exposed to Trump’s inspiring rhetoric and to his impressive destinations.  What viewers may have missed was not just the majestic pomp and pageantry of these venues, but the heartwarming hospitality and refreshing sense of shared camaraderie and respect.  There was joy – not nasty placards – floating in the air.

The glittering council hall in Riyadh was filled with Arab leaders from across the region eager to see and hear the new American president.  It was a seminal, historic moment reminiscent of others recollected from previous administrations: Nixon’s surprise trip that opened China to the world; JFK’s stirring “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech to the beleaguered people of that divided city; and later, Ronald Reagan’s exhortation for Mr. Gorbachev to “tear down this wall.”

These larger-than-life events stand in contrast to the petulantly narrow hope of Democrat spoilers to characterize Trump as a fool and a puppet of Putin.  While they deliver little more than speculation, leaks, and rumors, the president is making groundbreaking progress with the work of the world.

It’s been said that a combatant can die only once in war, but many times in politics.  It’s uncertain whether Trump has the nine lives of a cat.  But it is clear that the ratfinks who would destroy him have their evil work cut out for them.



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The Left's Irrational Fury


There’s an old joke about a psychiatrist who is approached by a patient in a mental ward who tells him , “I, sir, am Napoleon!”

“How do you know that?” asks the doctor.

“Because God told me!”

From the next bed comes the angry rejoinder, “”I did not!

In a world bordering on insanity, delusions of grandeur are no longer a joke. Nor is there any need to visit designated mental facilities to be confronted by those who have lost all sense of reality. The delusional are out there in full display. And in many instances, they are the ones running the entire crazy show. The out-of-control antics of Senate minority leader Chuck E. Schumer, for example, have been much discussed — or is that “disgust”?

Pretenders to America’s progressive throne may not have reached the insane heights of a madman like North Korea’s Kim Jong Un, but they have geared up for their own ersatz punitive wars. Thus far, their missiles have been aimed at those whose presumed crime is that of disagreeing with the liberal line. It may seem odd that progressives are so sincerely engaged in an out-and-out war, considering their ballyhooed abhorrence to the very idea.

But with Trump’s unexpected election, the haters are feeling ever more desperate. As a result, they take issue with every issue and engage in what they consider a fight to the finish — even if the election, itself, is over. Compromise hasn’t a chance of presiding over what is political — and these days, everything is political. As the battlegrounds of our divided country proliferate, the lines between good and evil become ever more sharply drawn.   

It isn’t just the obvious schisms — such as the Democrat’s rejection of Neal Gorsuch for the high court or the refusal of the leaders of sanctuary cities to obey the law of the land. In an attempt to thwart consensus of any kind, the liberal establishment has begun coloring outside the usual lines of attack. Their positions on contentious topics — such as global warming, abortion, and immigration — are now drawn with even bolder brushstrokes of irrational fury.

The full-throated righteous indignation of the Left can get tiresome, however, especially with its repetitive hackneyed phrases, such as “We are a country of immigrants!” or “We believe in building bridges, not walls!” Even more grating than the clichés is the simpleminded expedient of defining people and policies as exclusively “in” or “out,” acceptable or deplorable.

The liberal establishment’s claim to being “color blind” translates into seeing things as either black or white.  Perhaps exceptions are overlooked because they do not believe in exceptionalism! And in their rush to judgment, progressives round up the usual suspects: the Trump administration, corporations, whites males, Wall Street, conservatives, the rich, the right-to-lifers, etc. To this list of evil-doers there seems to have been added yet another target for wrath: The Old.

Cooling my heels in a podiatrist’s waiting room recently, I picked up a copy of Time magazine that featured what it called the “Next Generation Leaders,” which included Jon Stewart’s young replacement on “The Daily Show,” Trevor Noah. 

In the article, the talk-show host expresses a degree of modesty regarding his sudden success. But he is not at all reluctant to take a few digs at a segment of the population that doesn’t much dig him.  And naturally, he did so by way of prompting a favorite “concern” of the liberal establishment.

Noah states: “You look at global warming. Of course, old people don’t care about the planet because they’re not going to be here for the consequences.” His statement suggests that the only humans willing to save the world from climatic chaos are young liberals. This year’s Earth Day celebrated science, but the implication was that questioning the extent of mankind’s role in heating up the planet is to be a flat-earther, too stupid to understand science, much less accept it.

So even as earth-dwellers’ carbon footprints logically shrinks as we grow old, hotshot millennials like Trevor Noah still maintain that “the older generation has a ‘me, me, me’ attitude when it comes to issues like the environment.” Bernie Sanders notwithstanding, the generation gap on this issue seems to have widened into a virtual chasm, with echoes of resentment reverberating from either side.

It is not unusual to blame the present state of things on those who have hung around them the longest. Or to find “pathetic” those who may be uncomfortable around technology. Yet this year’s national Earth Day hoopla specifically honoring “science” seemed a bit presumptuous, considering that the PISA test scores of young Americans in math and science have been consistently below average compared to other participating countries. 

But like other general, feel-good rally themes such as free speech, human rights, and universal love, championing science is a safe bet that requires little effort other than carrying a placard — or maybe dressing like a solar panel.

There’s an old joke about a psychiatrist who is approached by a patient in a mental ward who tells him , “I, sir, am Napoleon!”

“How do you know that?” asks the doctor.

“Because God told me!”

From the next bed comes the angry rejoinder, “”I did not!

In a world bordering on insanity, delusions of grandeur are no longer a joke. Nor is there any need to visit designated mental facilities to be confronted by those who have lost all sense of reality. The delusional are out there in full display. And in many instances, they are the ones running the entire crazy show. The out-of-control antics of Senate minority leader Chuck E. Schumer, for example, have been much discussed — or is that “disgust”?

Pretenders to America’s progressive throne may not have reached the insane heights of a madman like North Korea’s Kim Jong Un, but they have geared up for their own ersatz punitive wars. Thus far, their missiles have been aimed at those whose presumed crime is that of disagreeing with the liberal line. It may seem odd that progressives are so sincerely engaged in an out-and-out war, considering their ballyhooed abhorrence to the very idea.

But with Trump’s unexpected election, the haters are feeling ever more desperate. As a result, they take issue with every issue and engage in what they consider a fight to the finish — even if the election, itself, is over. Compromise hasn’t a chance of presiding over what is political — and these days, everything is political. As the battlegrounds of our divided country proliferate, the lines between good and evil become ever more sharply drawn.   

It isn’t just the obvious schisms — such as the Democrat’s rejection of Neal Gorsuch for the high court or the refusal of the leaders of sanctuary cities to obey the law of the land. In an attempt to thwart consensus of any kind, the liberal establishment has begun coloring outside the usual lines of attack. Their positions on contentious topics — such as global warming, abortion, and immigration — are now drawn with even bolder brushstrokes of irrational fury.

The full-throated righteous indignation of the Left can get tiresome, however, especially with its repetitive hackneyed phrases, such as “We are a country of immigrants!” or “We believe in building bridges, not walls!” Even more grating than the clichés is the simpleminded expedient of defining people and policies as exclusively “in” or “out,” acceptable or deplorable.

The liberal establishment’s claim to being “color blind” translates into seeing things as either black or white.  Perhaps exceptions are overlooked because they do not believe in exceptionalism! And in their rush to judgment, progressives round up the usual suspects: the Trump administration, corporations, whites males, Wall Street, conservatives, the rich, the right-to-lifers, etc. To this list of evil-doers there seems to have been added yet another target for wrath: The Old.

Cooling my heels in a podiatrist’s waiting room recently, I picked up a copy of Time magazine that featured what it called the “Next Generation Leaders,” which included Jon Stewart’s young replacement on “The Daily Show,” Trevor Noah. 

In the article, the talk-show host expresses a degree of modesty regarding his sudden success. But he is not at all reluctant to take a few digs at a segment of the population that doesn’t much dig him.  And naturally, he did so by way of prompting a favorite “concern” of the liberal establishment.

Noah states: “You look at global warming. Of course, old people don’t care about the planet because they’re not going to be here for the consequences.” His statement suggests that the only humans willing to save the world from climatic chaos are young liberals. This year’s Earth Day celebrated science, but the implication was that questioning the extent of mankind’s role in heating up the planet is to be a flat-earther, too stupid to understand science, much less accept it.

So even as earth-dwellers’ carbon footprints logically shrinks as we grow old, hotshot millennials like Trevor Noah still maintain that “the older generation has a ‘me, me, me’ attitude when it comes to issues like the environment.” Bernie Sanders notwithstanding, the generation gap on this issue seems to have widened into a virtual chasm, with echoes of resentment reverberating from either side.

It is not unusual to blame the present state of things on those who have hung around them the longest. Or to find “pathetic” those who may be uncomfortable around technology. Yet this year’s national Earth Day hoopla specifically honoring “science” seemed a bit presumptuous, considering that the PISA test scores of young Americans in math and science have been consistently below average compared to other participating countries. 

But like other general, feel-good rally themes such as free speech, human rights, and universal love, championing science is a safe bet that requires little effort other than carrying a placard — or maybe dressing like a solar panel.



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Hillary’s 2020 Vision of Revenge


Hillary Clinton looks good in green.  After all, it’s the color of money  — and envy.  So it’s symbolic that on St Patrick’s Day she left  the quiet woods of Chappaqua   and wandered back  into the noisy political weeds, ready to jumpstart  her sputtering career.  Who’s to say whether in her bucolic post-campaign gambol Hillary came across  any good luck shamrocks or  wee leprechauns?  What’s clear is that the well-heeled former Secretary of State doesn’t have to scramble over rainbows to secure a pot of gold.  The only question now is how she intends to spend her good fortune to feed her insatiable quest for power.

Did anyone really expect Madame Secretary to meander forever?  Even in the wake of her unexpected defeat, Hillary’s professed pining for natural seclusion was, as usual, a lie.  Henry David Thoreau she’s not. Having barely survived ordering a meal at the counter of a roadside Chippotle,  Mrs. Clinton is not the sort who would  cozy up to Mother Nature.  And though her walks in the park supposedly resulted in a resolve to “resist, insist, persist and enlist, ” Hillary is better known for scheming than  for rhyme schemes.

So off she headed to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day  by speaking  at the Society of Irish Women’s annual dinner in Scranton, Pennsylvania.  Like Joe Biden, Hillary has claimed deep roots in that community, and once again she played up her father’s working-man roots, reminding the Irish ladies how he had  once toiled  in the Scranton Lace company before moving to Illinois.

Sporting a bright green scarf and a flattering new hairdo, Hillary  dutifully undertook her latest debut in the Keystone State.  But her heart was many miles north in downtown Manhattan, where the speculation is that she will toss her tam o’ shanter into the November race for mayor of the Big Apple. 

The current occupant of Gracie Mansion reportedly is not all that popular with his urban constituents — at least not with those who like their streets plowed after a snowstorm.  But even if Bill de Blasio were a model mayor, Hillary has never had the slightest  compunction about horning in on the territory of  other  politicians, even those of her own party.

Perhaps she has been studying recent polls that suggest she’s the only contender with any chance of toppling the present mayor.  A small Quinnipiac University survey showed de Blasio losing to Clinton by 49% to 30%.  Still, it’s early in the political game – and there have been a few other polls that suggest rather strong public disinterest in seeing Hillary back on a ballot.  Rasmussen, for example, posted that 58% don’t want her to run for mayor.

Being in the public limelight has always been crucial to the Clintons.  And right now it is hard to conjure many viable options that would do that for Hillary.  Running for governor of the Empire State seems a rather thankless job, poorly located  in a cold, remote upstate city. And she has already served as US Senator from the State of New York. Some may wonder why Hillary would even consider going back into campaign mode now that she is pushing 70 years of age and has two little grandchildren to spoil.

But for those who grasp the drive and depth of Her Heinous’s ambition, the reason is obvious.    She may at times pretend to be retrospective and even humbled by her loss to Donald Trump.  But such modesty doesn’t suit her  as much as  her brash intent  to find another pathway – the quicker, the better —  back to  the halls of power.  Rather than grooming younger Democrats to challenge the GOP in future elections, Hillary prefers to stare into her magic mirror  where she sees a continual work in progress.  Maybe she is not the “fairest of them all,” but she never doubts that she is the most qualified to four years hence become the First Woman President of the United States. Hillary isn’t giving up on her goal; she’s just moving the goal posts – again!

In the rampant liberal obstructionism against Donald Trump, Hillary senses her means of getting back into the game.  She views the absurd claims about  his collusion with the Russians as a vindication for her unanticipated defeat.  Although some Democrats may still chide her for a lackluster performance on the 2016 campaign trail, that will all but be forgotten by the next presidential election, especially if she, say, were to become the first Hiz Honor to be a her – and if she does a better job than Bill De Blasio, which  wouldn’t seem all that  hard.

The primary challenge for Mrs. Clinton at this point is to maintain a public presence.  Repairing to the woods was just a momentary metaphor.  She has never doubted the value of visibility.  The task  at hand is  to determine  what persona to  project  to  the electorate.

 Initially, Hillary seemed to settle on the pretense of being a peacemaker.   The same vicious partisan who had said she would stand “every step of the way” with the progressive movement of “persistence and resistance” decided instead  to urge a divided country to work together to heal itself.   “I do not believe,” she opined, ” that we can let political divides harden into personal divides.”  (Does this mean she will be friends again with Donald Trump?)

It was strange rhetoric, indeed, coming from someone who throughout her life has launched mean-spirited personal attacks on her political enemies.  But discrepancies from her past have never bothered Hillary. When it’s self-servingly expedient, she can portray herself as  the balm to a troubled world.  Her campaigns have always taken the form of morality plays in which she assumes  a role of high-minded scold, dispensing  advice  to Americans  about how  we should behave.  Eventually,  her future admonition  might be, “If only you had elected me president…” Bottom line:  Hillary will be seeking redemption – and revenge.

The ugly persistence of anti-Trump hatred, however, has enabled  Hillary to shift her persona  from  wise conciliator to  wisecracking critic.   Emboldened by the failure of the Republican Congress to replace Obamacare — which she called “a victory for all Americans” – Hillary’s self-righteous vitriol is now on full display.  In a recent fiery address to the Professional Businesswomen of California in San Francisco,  Madame Secretary  was in full throttle,  ridiculing  the Trump administration and criticizing the paucity of women in top administrative positions.

Snowflakes on college campuses across the country will be in a flurry of excitement, especially at Wellesley, where she will  deliver a much-anticipated commencement  address to graduates in May.  Except for the handful of students there who belong to the College Republican Club, the news of Hillary’s unexpected defeat was devastating. Her picture had already been scanned for the cover of the forthcoming alumnae magazine.  The euphoric predictions by like-minded journalists, confident that Hillary would win in the greatest landslide since Ronald Reagan, turned out to be faux news

Adding another layer of angst, a group of frat boys from nearby Babson College was accused of “invading ” the Wellesley campus right after the election results were in.    Reportedly, they roared their vehicles along the scenic, winding roads, shouting obscenities and harassing terrified students.

The facts of that regrettable incident appear to be quite different. Only a couple of male students were charged with creating a disturbance and  were  duly  disciplined  by  Babson authorities.  Subsequent police investigations exonerated them of all charges, the most serious of which was shouting ‘Trump! Trump! Trump!” and “Make America Great Again,” hardly  the crime of the century!  But one distraught black student said the “Trump” chant reminded her of the sinister tribal drumbeats of Africa.

If some over-zealous Trump supporters  “vented” on election night, Hillary ‘s minions have been doing the same ever since.  For them, there are no longer any “safe zones”– not even in the recesses of their left-leaning souls – now that Donald J. Trump sits in the White House.

But spirits could be raised now that their heroine is out of the woods and out on the speaking circuit.  Surely they couldn’t have imagined  Hillary giving up the political ghost!  Or being content to write yet another book.  Hillary’s trendier wardrobe and obvious makeover suggest she’s already hired a fashion consultant.  The next interview will be for a ghostwriter.   

Over the long years, Hillary Clinton has amassed as many enemies as friends. Perhaps she figures it’s only a matter of time before the proper group comes out on top.   But right now, every fiber of her reconfigured being screams,  “Bring it on!”  And while the picture of Hillary’s political future may seem blurred, her long-range focus on power has never been more clear.

Hillary Clinton looks good in green.  After all, it’s the color of money  — and envy.  So it’s symbolic that on St Patrick’s Day she left  the quiet woods of Chappaqua   and wandered back  into the noisy political weeds, ready to jumpstart  her sputtering career.  Who’s to say whether in her bucolic post-campaign gambol Hillary came across  any good luck shamrocks or  wee leprechauns?  What’s clear is that the well-heeled former Secretary of State doesn’t have to scramble over rainbows to secure a pot of gold.  The only question now is how she intends to spend her good fortune to feed her insatiable quest for power.

Did anyone really expect Madame Secretary to meander forever?  Even in the wake of her unexpected defeat, Hillary’s professed pining for natural seclusion was, as usual, a lie.  Henry David Thoreau she’s not. Having barely survived ordering a meal at the counter of a roadside Chippotle,  Mrs. Clinton is not the sort who would  cozy up to Mother Nature.  And though her walks in the park supposedly resulted in a resolve to “resist, insist, persist and enlist, ” Hillary is better known for scheming than  for rhyme schemes.

So off she headed to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day  by speaking  at the Society of Irish Women’s annual dinner in Scranton, Pennsylvania.  Like Joe Biden, Hillary has claimed deep roots in that community, and once again she played up her father’s working-man roots, reminding the Irish ladies how he had  once toiled  in the Scranton Lace company before moving to Illinois.

Sporting a bright green scarf and a flattering new hairdo, Hillary  dutifully undertook her latest debut in the Keystone State.  But her heart was many miles north in downtown Manhattan, where the speculation is that she will toss her tam o’ shanter into the November race for mayor of the Big Apple. 

The current occupant of Gracie Mansion reportedly is not all that popular with his urban constituents — at least not with those who like their streets plowed after a snowstorm.  But even if Bill de Blasio were a model mayor, Hillary has never had the slightest  compunction about horning in on the territory of  other  politicians, even those of her own party.

Perhaps she has been studying recent polls that suggest she’s the only contender with any chance of toppling the present mayor.  A small Quinnipiac University survey showed de Blasio losing to Clinton by 49% to 30%.  Still, it’s early in the political game – and there have been a few other polls that suggest rather strong public disinterest in seeing Hillary back on a ballot.  Rasmussen, for example, posted that 58% don’t want her to run for mayor.

Being in the public limelight has always been crucial to the Clintons.  And right now it is hard to conjure many viable options that would do that for Hillary.  Running for governor of the Empire State seems a rather thankless job, poorly located  in a cold, remote upstate city. And she has already served as US Senator from the State of New York. Some may wonder why Hillary would even consider going back into campaign mode now that she is pushing 70 years of age and has two little grandchildren to spoil.

But for those who grasp the drive and depth of Her Heinous’s ambition, the reason is obvious.    She may at times pretend to be retrospective and even humbled by her loss to Donald Trump.  But such modesty doesn’t suit her  as much as  her brash intent  to find another pathway – the quicker, the better —  back to  the halls of power.  Rather than grooming younger Democrats to challenge the GOP in future elections, Hillary prefers to stare into her magic mirror  where she sees a continual work in progress.  Maybe she is not the “fairest of them all,” but she never doubts that she is the most qualified to four years hence become the First Woman President of the United States. Hillary isn’t giving up on her goal; she’s just moving the goal posts – again!

In the rampant liberal obstructionism against Donald Trump, Hillary senses her means of getting back into the game.  She views the absurd claims about  his collusion with the Russians as a vindication for her unanticipated defeat.  Although some Democrats may still chide her for a lackluster performance on the 2016 campaign trail, that will all but be forgotten by the next presidential election, especially if she, say, were to become the first Hiz Honor to be a her – and if she does a better job than Bill De Blasio, which  wouldn’t seem all that  hard.

The primary challenge for Mrs. Clinton at this point is to maintain a public presence.  Repairing to the woods was just a momentary metaphor.  She has never doubted the value of visibility.  The task  at hand is  to determine  what persona to  project  to  the electorate.

 Initially, Hillary seemed to settle on the pretense of being a peacemaker.   The same vicious partisan who had said she would stand “every step of the way” with the progressive movement of “persistence and resistance” decided instead  to urge a divided country to work together to heal itself.   “I do not believe,” she opined, ” that we can let political divides harden into personal divides.”  (Does this mean she will be friends again with Donald Trump?)

It was strange rhetoric, indeed, coming from someone who throughout her life has launched mean-spirited personal attacks on her political enemies.  But discrepancies from her past have never bothered Hillary. When it’s self-servingly expedient, she can portray herself as  the balm to a troubled world.  Her campaigns have always taken the form of morality plays in which she assumes  a role of high-minded scold, dispensing  advice  to Americans  about how  we should behave.  Eventually,  her future admonition  might be, “If only you had elected me president…” Bottom line:  Hillary will be seeking redemption – and revenge.

The ugly persistence of anti-Trump hatred, however, has enabled  Hillary to shift her persona  from  wise conciliator to  wisecracking critic.   Emboldened by the failure of the Republican Congress to replace Obamacare — which she called “a victory for all Americans” – Hillary’s self-righteous vitriol is now on full display.  In a recent fiery address to the Professional Businesswomen of California in San Francisco,  Madame Secretary  was in full throttle,  ridiculing  the Trump administration and criticizing the paucity of women in top administrative positions.

Snowflakes on college campuses across the country will be in a flurry of excitement, especially at Wellesley, where she will  deliver a much-anticipated commencement  address to graduates in May.  Except for the handful of students there who belong to the College Republican Club, the news of Hillary’s unexpected defeat was devastating. Her picture had already been scanned for the cover of the forthcoming alumnae magazine.  The euphoric predictions by like-minded journalists, confident that Hillary would win in the greatest landslide since Ronald Reagan, turned out to be faux news

Adding another layer of angst, a group of frat boys from nearby Babson College was accused of “invading ” the Wellesley campus right after the election results were in.    Reportedly, they roared their vehicles along the scenic, winding roads, shouting obscenities and harassing terrified students.

The facts of that regrettable incident appear to be quite different. Only a couple of male students were charged with creating a disturbance and  were  duly  disciplined  by  Babson authorities.  Subsequent police investigations exonerated them of all charges, the most serious of which was shouting ‘Trump! Trump! Trump!” and “Make America Great Again,” hardly  the crime of the century!  But one distraught black student said the “Trump” chant reminded her of the sinister tribal drumbeats of Africa.

If some over-zealous Trump supporters  “vented” on election night, Hillary ‘s minions have been doing the same ever since.  For them, there are no longer any “safe zones”– not even in the recesses of their left-leaning souls – now that Donald J. Trump sits in the White House.

But spirits could be raised now that their heroine is out of the woods and out on the speaking circuit.  Surely they couldn’t have imagined  Hillary giving up the political ghost!  Or being content to write yet another book.  Hillary’s trendier wardrobe and obvious makeover suggest she’s already hired a fashion consultant.  The next interview will be for a ghostwriter.   

Over the long years, Hillary Clinton has amassed as many enemies as friends. Perhaps she figures it’s only a matter of time before the proper group comes out on top.   But right now, every fiber of her reconfigured being screams,  “Bring it on!”  And while the picture of Hillary’s political future may seem blurred, her long-range focus on power has never been more clear.



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