Hillaryzilla

This is it. Roast or toast. Invade or be conquered. Texas and Ohio. And a couple of other states someplace. Virginia and New Jersey, I think. No, no. It’s Vermont. And Rhode Island. Who goes to Vermont this time of year? And why is it called Rhode Island when there’s no island?

Anyway, D-Day is here and I am sweating like a whore in church. Ohio looks tight. Texas is tighter. My pantyhose is even tighter. Maggie hasn’t been able to step up to handle my shopping details like Patti could. She can’t get the color right. She can’t get the size right. I’m one shade too dark and two sizes too tight. Now my feet are numb.

I’m going to roast Mark Penn for that dumb-assed email he sent to the Los Angeles Times telling them he didn’t hold any responsibility if my campaign fails. He’s already laying out his parachute. I had Howard send them an email telling the paper that Mark was to blame for everything. He’s toast.

Alright, so Barack Obama has been against the war in Iraq since 2002. One speech at an anti-war rally does not a President make, and he’s made a  whole presidential campaign out of it.

Where’s the beef?

Today Texas. Tomorrow Ohio. When will these voters ever wake up? At least Dennis Kucinich was pathetic. Attracting the pathetic crowd, those voters who are so alienated they’ve been abducted by aliens, can’t be that hard. Obama’s appeal has me stumped.

His health care plan is about the same as mine. His voting record is about the same as mine. His wife even looks like me if I was black. Bill says, “It’s the scowl and the jowls.”

One speech. That’s it. It wasn’t even a good speech. It was almost six years ago. If anyone has ever made a career for public office off one speech it was Barack Obama. And Martin Luther King. And Barbara Jordan. And Mario Cuomo.

It guess it works for some.

Barack Obama must be channeling Ronald Reagan. I’ve thrown everything at him for months and nothing sticks to the man. Nothing.

I played the Tough Hillary Card right before Iowa’s caucuses when our internal polls showed Obama taking a slight lead among voters. We thought it was a fluke, but just to be sure, Mark Penn said to act tough and strong, so I did.

What happened in Iowa surprised everyone, including Bill, and not much that happens in politics surprises Bill. Then he suggested we play the Hillary Crying Card in New Hampshire. Honestly, I thought that worked and we came away with a big win and some momentum.

The problem with the Crying Card is that it can only be used once. It’s a one time shot.

In South Carolina’s primary, Bill played the Race Card and that blew up and only made things worse. Fortunately, people in California and New York don’t pay attention to what goes on in South Carolina, so I came away with a few wins, but not as many delegates as we expected.

The Experience Card is a delicate play. After all, most of my experience has come by being married to Bill. Sure, voters love Bill and they would re-elect him in a minute if it were legal, but he’s got me chained to the past, and Obama keeps playing the Change Card at every opportunity.

I find it difficult to tell people that I’m an agent for change when I’m married to Bill Clinton.

I’ve played the Debate Card without much success. Obama gives great speeches, but so do I. I’m even better in a debate and everyone agrees that I took it too him, and wiped the floor with him in the two most recent debates. Bill walked in tonight, and I said, “Honey, I won. I was great. It was a debate for the ages.” And all he said was, “So what?”

Obama owns the Change Card and the Teflon Card, so what’s left? Mike Huckabee already has the Vulture Card. He’s just hanging around and hoping that John McCain falls asleep and doesn’t wake up.

I’m so sick of presidential debates that I could spit. In public. On national television. The consequence of that would be better than enduring another debate full of endless prattle, mindless questions, and phony platitudes from CNN.

Sure, they call themselves the Best Political Team on Television but you would never know it by the way CNN treated me tonight. What was with that guy speaking Mexican, or Spanish, or Portuguese, or whatever it was? For crying out loud, if ever there was a time for English as a national language, tonight’s debate proved the time is now.

What bothered me most about having that Mexican guy ask questions? It didn’t matter which language he used, I still couldn’t understand what he said. Was he cursing the Clintons? Was he insulting Americans? Was he hitting on me? It’s already happened to me three times this week in Texas.

And where was the CNN translator? How are presidential candidates supposed to come up with appropriate responses in a debate if we don’t even understand the questions? This would not have happened if Patti Solis Doyle was still around. She speaks Spanish. Or Mexican. Or, whatever.

The Democratic presidential campaign has, as it always does, come down to delegates. Whoever has the most delegates wins, right? Wrong.

The hideous truth about delegates is they can be bought. After all the primary elections, wins and losses, delegates won by a candidate are pledged to a candidate but not bound to that candidate.

In other words, they can switch sides if they want to.

Most people don’t understand the Super Delegates, either. There are 795 Democratic party officials and insiders who will attend the convention this summer and they are officially uncommitted. Not. Each one of them knows which side of their bread gets the butter, and who knows better how to apply the butter than a Clinton. It’s in our political blood.

The print and broadcast media love to count the numbers, but we consider it an exercise in futility. Even if Barack Obama heads into the convention with a 200 delegate lead, he could still lose the nomination by 400 or 500 delegates because delegates can switch sides whenever they want, and the Super Delegates always throw their support to the candidate with the most to give.

It’s math. Who has more to give a delegate than me?

I wonder how it is that holidays find their way to public prominence. President’s Day, Memorial Day, Independence Day, and Christmas and New Year’s Day, I can fully understand.

One look at the rest of the public holidays and you have to wonder what it is that is worthwhile. Take Mother’s Day. Or, Father’s Day. There’s no equality there. Nobody cares about Father’s Day. Or Children’s Day, whenever that is.

St. Patrick’s Day, St. Valentine’s Day, Discoverer’s Day? Puhleeze. The only reason Martin Luther King has his own day was to placate African-Americans. Isn’t it enough that they own the home run crowns in baseball, the scoring crowns in basketball, and the weight crowns in football?

As much as we enjoy having holidays to look forward to, most of them are perpetuated by commercialism, and nothing else. Thanksgiving? Does anyone seriously consider what it was that the white folks were about to do to the real native Americans? Would native Americans have enjoyed the meal as much had they known?

Does anyone sit around and contemplate past presidents on President’s Day? Of course, not. They’re shopping or have the day off or work retail, in which case they service those shopping and seldom get a holiday off.

I called Harold Ickes aside today and said, “Icky, who are the Top 5 Recipents of Valentine’s Day cards?” He said, “Uh, mothers? Girlfriends? Trick question, right? Do I still have a job?” Everyone is so paranoid these days.

So, I said, “Icky, the Top 5 Recipients of Valentine’s Day cards are, Teachers, Students, Wives, Girlfriends, Mothers. Which one am I?”

Harold looked at me with that look my campaign staffers gave me right after I asked them to work for free, and said, “It’s Mark Penn, right? You’re letting Mark go. I knew it!”

Sigh.

It must have something to do with the water in the South. Jimmy Carter. Bill Clinton. Now Mike Huckabee. There’s more chutzpah in that trio than in any East Coast politician.

Barring a heart attack, John McCain will be the Republican presidential nominee. Still, Mike Huckabee won’t quit. I won’t quit, either. It’s the water from Arkansas. I have it sent to me by the crate. It’s a little known secret, but if you drink a lot of water from Arkansas, go into politics or religion, you’re likely to have a miracle or two.

Growing testicles seems to be the most common side effect.

Personally, I think Huckabee is praying for a miracle, assuming that a John McCain heart attack is part of the Lord’s plan for Republicans this year. What is really interesting about this campaign isn’t that long shots actually have a shot, it’s that nothing is for certain.

First, the Democrats all but anoint me, and along comes Barack Obama, all but dead in the water six months ago. Then, the Republicans leave McCain for dead alongside the Giuliani Train, and guess what? His honor spends $50-million for a delegate. That’s a worse deal than Romney got.

Finally, after McCain is resurrected to glory, Huckabee keeps winning voters and delegates. He’s the Little Engine That Could. Or, he just doesn’t know how to read the writing on the wall. You’d think that a religious man could figure out what’s really going on.

It’s the water. Either that, or God loves resurrecting losers just to see them fall again.

SuperTuesday could have been worse. We started the night well behind in delegates and finished the night slightly behind in delegates. That’s progress, but if we can’t lick this race issue it will be an increasingly tough road ahead.

What bothers me as much as anything about the race issue is that it’s totally partisan. It’s the blacks who show their racist attraction to Obama, not the whites. Well, except for white women. I guess it’s the forbidden fruit syndrome. White women love what they aren’t supposed to have.

But what about blacks? Are they too blind to realize that they’re voting based on race and not based on issues? White women are split between me and Obama. Blacks are voting four to one against me.

They’re voting against me? And I’m married to the first black African-American President for crying out loud! There’s no loyalty among the colored folks, that’s for sure. And after all we’ve done for them through the years.

If blacks were truly issues oriented then their primary votes would be split about evenly between Obama and me because we’re about the same on most issues. Except Iraq. And health care. And the economy. And vision. And foreign policy.

This whole race is about race.

Political debates are all about two things– preparation and implementation. We rehearse every possible scenario, every question, again and again.

After preparation comes the debate and actual answers. So, it’s usually just a matter of being able to remember the processed answer for any question. Toss in a little drama here and there, some smiles, a frown, a scolding look and a hit or two on George Bush, and call it a night.

One of the most telling questions in recent weeks had to do with a young voter who has always had a Bush or Clinton on the ballot since 1980. That’s 28 years. With a little luck, it’ll be another 8 years. Until Chelsea is old enough for her run at the White House. Timing is everything.

Still, it makes some voters uneasy that there’s always a Clinton around and running for something. It’s as if the United States has become Argentina and only family members of past presidents are allowed to run for office.

The best way to deflect such criticism is by humor, pointed barbs, and a smile. My favorite is, “It took a Clinton to clean up after the first Bush, and it’ll take a Clinton to clean up the mess again.” Applause. Smiles. Laughter. Next question.

That’s how it works. Clintons make a living cleaning up after people from Texas.

We’re not going to campaign in Florida, and it’s probably a good thing. The Democrats there are idiots.

For whatever reason the party decided to move their primary election date and that pissed off the Democratic leadership so much that Florida’s convention delegates won’t be counted. Unless I win in Florida, in which case I think Florida’s votes should count.

The same thing happened in Michigan. Mitt Romney won on the Republican side, and I won on the Democratic side, but the Democratic National Committee is pissed at Michigan, too, so their votes don’t count toward my nomination. Unless I win in Florida, in which case I think Michigan’s votes should count, too.

It’s only fair.

Howard Wolfson talked to Chris Matthews and told him that we expect John Edwards to bow out of the presidential race after I win on Super Tuesday. I’d French kiss the guy if he would get out of the race before then. We’re all really concerned about John’s health. He needs to save some money for his kid’s college education fund, and for his own retirement which should start soon, and to help find a cure for his wife’s inability to shut up.

Instead, he’s been spending his kid’s inheritance on this losing presidential campaign. He can’t win, so why does he bother? He doesn’t need the job. He doesn’t need the money. All he’s doing by exercising this political death wish is to screw up the delegate count for me, and he leaves his poor, sick, and grumpy wife at home alone.

It’s time for Johnny B. Gone.