Ah, Hillary. What can you say about Hillary Clinton that hasn't already been muttered under somebody else's breath?

Now, I don't want to get off on a rant here, but love Hillary Clinton or hate her, you'd better get used to her because, like a retired Celine Dion, she's not going away any time soon.

Now, traditionally the role of the First Lady has been maintaining an inviting atmosphere at the White House and then picking a special pet project to keep her occupied. Jackie Kennedy chose celebrating the arts, Lady Bird Johnson the environment. Hillary Clinton's pet project? Total world domination.

Look, I won't lie to you. This country has a deep fear and mistrust of strong, smart, accomplished, outspoken women unless they're sexy 22-year-olds killing vampires on television. But what do we really know about Hillary, other than that she's had more make overs than Sammy "The Bull" Gravano's wife?

Well, for one thing, we know Hillary is an insanely loyal spouse. I don't understand how she can be in the same house as Bill without wacking him in the nuts with a polo mallet every time he falls asleep on the couch.

But the Clintons are a rare breed. For many people the idea of running for office, forcing the public to choose whether they like you or not, would be a nightmare. But Hillary and Bill need the assurance that 46% of the country loves them, and the other 54% is out to get them. That's why I'm different. I know all of you like me. Right? Don't you?


See, I knew I was right.

Bill and Hillary possess that rare blend of grade A Machiavellian caginess combined with the luck of a two-time Powerball winner. Who but the Clintons could see one of their opponents bow out of a senate race plagued by, of all things, charges of marital infidelity? I'm sure when reports about Giuliani's mistress surfaced, the Clintons laughed so hard they could almost hear each other from across the hall in their separate bedrooms.

Now, critics have asked why Hillary chose to run in New York instead of Arkansas. You know, I think it has something to do with Arkansas being in Arkansas.

But New York? Who does she think she's fooling? Hillary Clinton actually had to go on a listening tour to find out what the residents of New York want. C'mon, you can't spend fifteen seconds with a New Yorker without discovering not only what he wants, but who he wants dead and when he was last operated on. And believe it or not, New Yorkers are buying it. She's actually working her magic on a bunch of people who pride themselves on the fact that they cannot be snookered. I can only assume this is karma for fucking the Indians over on that bead thing.

I can't believe they can't see how phony she is. Don't they see through those perfectly prepared speeches, where every brittle smile has been pre-programmed to last exactly the right number of seconds to express humility without veering off into self-doubt? You know what I want? I want to see if she can tell me her home phone number. I want her to tell me what's in her refrigerator, or what her mailman's name is, or when she last parallel parked a fucking car. I want her to tell me about the life she does lead rather than the life she thinks I should lead.

Anyway, here's how I think it's going to play out in November and beyond. Hillary wins the Senate seat in New York. Now, you would think she wants Gore to be the next President, but she actually needs Bush to win. Then the Clinton machine starts a back-channel campaign attacking Bush for the next four years.

Bush is such a massive nitwit that he won't seal the deal for reelection in 2004, so Hillary runs against Dopey and becomes the great white female hope. Then we begin to think, if we can elect the son of a President, why the hell not the wife of a president? Next thing you know, Bill's back cruising trim in the West Wing without any of that bullshit running-the-country-thing to get in the way, plus, this now gives the Clintons eight years to get the 22nd Amendment repealed and get themselves sworn in as the fucking King and Queen of America... Hey, just you watch.

Now, I generally don't subscribe to the grossly sexist theory that women who seek power are secretly compensating for something that's missing from their lives, but in Hillary's case it's so pathetically obvious. I guarantee you, if Bill Clinton flies home this week from Europe, stops in Manhattan long enough to pick up a couple dozen long-stemmed roses, a bottle of Cristal and a La Perla negligee, then heads up to Chap-a-qua, glides in through the front door, slaps a little Francis Albert Sinatra on the CD player, picks Hillary up in his arms like he's Richard Gere and she's Deborah Winger in a paper mill, carries her up the stairs, and spends the rest of the weekend showing her exactly what his definition of "is" is, well, my friends, I think Rick Lazio will be running for the Senate unopposed.

Of course, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.


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