The Oprah generation is on its way to the White House, ready to throw out all those redneck tough-guy smart-aleck prevaricators.
Judge Judy could make mincemeat of ’em in one 6-minute segment between Vioxx commercials.
Family is key, all right. Hillary’s husband was a fake. Barack’s father was a no-show. It’s a real-life "Survivor." These two know how to handle things without real men around. They know how to connect with the vast majority of American women who are either raising children on their own, or wish they were. And they know that a lot more of us — guys and gals — are tired of the condescending, huffing and puffing pontificating of pirouetting father-figures like Cheney and Rumsfeld.
And whatsisname.
To this growing majority of Americans, life is what you can make of it — and you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, or a "Father Knows Best" out of the "me" generation.
So enough of the real men. Let’s have some realism.
Who wants real men around anyway, when we have such a fine government willing to help?
Hillary and Obama. A manified woman and a feminized man — the perfect match for a country that just threw the abusers out of the house.
Well, politics is war by another means, which means that you go to war with the family you’ve got. Hillary and Obama, twin suns from dysfunctional families, are going to become crusaders against a bullying, abusive administration that everybody now wants to take to divorce court. We’ll turn the tables on the "battered-wife syndrome." Instead of just impeaching the SOB’s, well just use them as a punching bag for the next two years. Why get a divorce when Congress will give us a 24-month restraining order?
So much for being “pro-family.”
No more fakes, just facts. Enough of the puff. Just give me the stuff. Enough of the blurt. I feel your hurt.
Welcome to Hilabama.
Al Gore tried some triangulation of his own in 2000, when he recognized that millions of Americans considered Bill Clinton to be a louse. He pushed his wife as a champion of clean lyrics in rap music — talk about Mission Impossible. And then he tried staking out the single and divorced moms as his territory: he kept reassuring them, "I will fight for you! (… unlike Bill, whom you might have heard of, my former running mate, that unfaithful cad)."
Rejoice, feminized America. Hilabama don’t have to promise to fight for you, they are you. And they will make sure that the Hilified, Obamified government will be thoroughly re-energized, sensitized, feminized and generous, with gay days, celebrations of universal caring, and lots of love (so what if it’s mandatory?) to spread around, along with all that money that Hilabama will take from all those rich old men (forget the millionaire widows) and tenderly redistribute to those who deserve it.
With Hilabama, the government will become the guardian ad litem of just about everybody. Finally, a release of all that pent-up marital tension with that self-styled superman, Jerkwater Rumbusheny. After all, he only came on the scene because he looked like Mr. Right after Bill’s swill polluted the neighborhood. A one-night stand that turned into an eight-year nightmare. Haven’t we all seen that movie already?
Ah, choices. Well, thank goodness we can change them. Yes, we’ll have choice with Hllabama, and we’re going to need it. Ever since Hillary got the Bible removed from the core curriculum at Wellesley (but that was oh, so sixties!), the bad guys stole the mantle of Faith from the good guys, and dominated the political scene (except for those years with the man from Hope, of course). But now, Barack’s got faith to spare (don’t ask in what). We told those other guys to keep their faith out of our bedrooms, but Barack’s is so different, so affirming — after all, it doesn’t mean God or anything — and that comforting thought will lull us to sleep at night, right there in our bedrooms, and not threaten us at all.
Hilabama’s Faith. Bill’s Hope. And government Charity. It’s all right, America, our long national nightmare is almost over.
