I gained over 200,000 votes against Barack Obama’s total and still lost SuperDelegates. Those people do not deserve to be delegates to the Democratic National Convention.
I find it remarkable that the same critics and media pundits who view Obama’s so-called glide path to the nomination as worthy of discussion refuse to discuss my last chance, last ditch effort, to pull defeat from the jaws of victory. Rather, victory from the jaws of defeat. I get those two mixed up since Iowa.
The media cover everything that happens, and some pretty impossible, nearly improbably things happen in politics. Obama’s meteoric rise from obscurity. Who would have predicted that? John McCain pulled his campaign from the ashes and defeated other candidates with more campaign money. He was written off just six months ago.
Why is it so implausible that my campaign can be resurrected? Why is it so implausible that I can be waiting at the door when Obama falters, as he must. All candidates stumble. It’s only an issue of when and by how much.
Hanging by a thread is still hanging in there. Look at Indiana Jones. How often was he counted out during an adventure only to be saved at the last possible second by a smiling fate?
Another day, another election, another overwhelming win for me, thanks to my old Kentucky home boys. I was sitting around tonight counting my pledged delegate votes, and some how or another, Barack Obama ended up with more delegates than me.
I got the most votes in the elections. He got the most delegates. How does that happen?
It’s quite easy to understand the differences between Kentucky voters and Oregon voters. People in Kentucky have limited educations, little college, poor dental hygiene, and the barest of necessities; certainly no understanding of birth control.
But they know a strong woman when they see one.
Oregon, on the other hand, is full of malcontents, mostly socialists who would choose a man of color over a white woman on principle alone. I’ve never admitted to smoking pot and Barack Obama has, so, automatically, he’s the candidate of choice in Oregon.
Thank God for white home boys, trailer parks, and moonshine.
I remember reading about Hiroo Onoda, that Japanese soldier who continued to fight on in the jungles of the Philippines for 30 years after WWII ended. What a great inspiration for me. There is one person on the planet who understands how I feel.
I cannot surrender. I may be defeated in battle. I may be in debt, though not for long. I may have enemies to the left of me, and enemies to the right of me, but I will continue the battle, prolong the war, fight the fine fight to the finish.
I will not surrender.
It is not in my blood to call it quits, no matter the odds. I didn’t quit when Bill lost in Arkansas. I didn’t quit the race in 1992 when Gennifer Flowers raised he ugly head. It really is ugly. I didn’t quit when Monica Lewinsky nearly derailed a popular President.
Hiroo Onoda didn’t quit. The clock ran out. But he didn’t surrender. Me neither.
My new campaign slogan, ‘Hillary in the House‘ is taking off big time. It’s all over the internet.
One of my supporters in West Virginia said she saw it on television and thought it was great. First class lip syncing, she said. Then she asked if it was OK for me to run for President and the House at the same time that I’m a Senator, and what would happen if I won both?
Consider it a wake up call from the Warrior Queen. If Iran does anything, I repeat, anything to harm Israel, I would not hesitate to nuke them back to the Dark Ages. For Iran, that would be about 10 years ago. They haven’t advanced much.
Alright, maybe nuke is a harsh word. How about massive retaliation? That works. Poor warmonger George Bush and his evil warring twin, John McCain won’t be able to figure this one out. I’m against the war in Iraq but voted for it. I want to bring troops home from Iraq but I’m ready to nuke retaliate against Iran. Keep ‘em guessing
Come to think of it, even massive retaliation has a certain wimpyness to it, totally unbefitting a Warrior Queen. How about totally obliterate?
All I’m saying these days is that Tuesday’s election in Indiana is a game changer. When I win that election I get to use the same phrase again in North Carolina. When I win there it’s a game changer.
What’s the game?
Politics as usual. Nothing really changes. You would think that voters realize that by now. Barack Obama talks a good game about politics of the past, but it didn’t take him long to dump his minister off on a country road and run over him a couple of times.
That’s politics at its best. Run over your friends if they get in your way.
Mark Penn coined the phrase ‘game changer.’ I’m using it now. Not because the game is changing, but just to spite Mark Penn. He was a friend until I ran over him.
I like a glass of sweet wine at dinner, so I was totally aghast at how the campaign went last week in Pennsylvania. It was one thing to drop into a bar with a bunch of sweaty men in plaid shirts, and something else to chug down a glass of warm beer.
It was warm beer. I don’t like beer when it’s cold. How the Brits and Aussies manage to drink warm beer is one of the mysteries of the universe. What could be worse?
Well, it got worse. No sooner had I chugged down a glass of beer in that Pennyslvania bar and the bartender offered me a shot of whiskey. I like whiskey as much as I like kissing a sweaty armpit but there I was, just one of the guys, video cameras on, men cheering, what else could I do?
The bartender handed me a shot of whiskey and I chugged again. My God, how do men tolerate that taste; or lack of taste? It burned all the way down, so far down that the polish on my toenails curled.
I’ll be glad when I don’t have to do this again. Pennsylvania, I need your votes, but this is the last you’ll ever hear from me.
Some members of the press have suggested that my most recent debate with Barack Obama will be my last. I laugh at that suggestion.
What about John McCain?
Do people not expect the Republican nominee for President to debate the Democratic nominee for President? That would be me, of course.
Barack Obama doesn’t want to debate me anymore. He would rather work on his bowling, which is in dire need of a coach, or something. Besides, he’s left handed. Lefty’s can’t bowl. Everyone knows it.
John McCain isn’t too bad for an old man. His latest proposal is for a ‘Gas Tax’ Holiday. Democrats would call it a moratorium on federal gasoline taxes, but McCain uses the word ‘holiday.’ I love it.
Now, if John could just figure out a way to pay for the holiday he proposes. If I’m not mistaken, Americans have the lowest gasoline price, by far, of any industrial or civilized nation.
Why?
Because our gasoline taxes are so low. So what does the fiscally conservative candidate for President want to do? Cut taxes.
Then McCain goes and blasts away at Barack Obama with a great line, ‘All these tax increases are the fine print under the slogan of hope.’ What a great line. How does McCain figure the government will pay its bills with a popular gasoline tax cut that further reduces government revenue.
Sure, the country will be fine with Mr. Magoo as President.
Al Gore probably lost the election in 2000 because he was labeled and branded by the Republicans. I feel the same thing is happening to me.
Everything seemed to be going well for the then-Vice President until the debates with George W. Bush. Gore made a few critical mistakes. He ‘misspoke himself‘ with juicy items like inventing the internet.
The Republicans jumped all over that and called Gore a serial exaggerator, even a fabricator of lies, a perpetuator of untruths. The Pinocchio cartoons were the kiss of death for Gore’s run at the White House.
It’s deja vu all over again.
Labels and branding can make or break a political campaign, so I’ve decided to take the Ronald Reagan approach to impending disaster. Ignore it. It’ll go away.
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