One of the greatest ironies will be if, or when, the great American Scoundrel, Slick Willie, alpha ingrateSLASHrake, he of the tawny cigar fingers and all, he of the blue dress encrusting, will be cast into the role of First Husband come January, 2017.
What a turnabout of cultural dialogue this will represent.
The First Husband, Bill Clinton.
A destruction of roles and corruption of expectations and the worst cynical exploitation of our so-called Democracy, representative or otherwise. What an emblematic signal of our era that the most lunatic womanizer to sit in our Oval Office in the past 30 years will now be relegated to the background second spousal fiddle, whereupon he will be called to smile vapidly, interject nonsense across the unwilling American dinner party, blustering or hiding his way through.
I think First Husband Bill Clinton will be intrusive, vocal, and disgustingly opportunistic of another chance to whore up the national vile spotlight afforded by his scoundrelless-in-chief wife.
There ya have it men, and women, all Americans of respectable grounding and the commonest sense.
Hillary Clinton, POTUS. If so, it is not a question of gender revolution. It’s an an elitist, Establishment revolution. The writing splashed across the wall in bloody excrement.
For once, we have the chance to rebuke the ingrained (as in a splinter) systemically entrenched political classes that deign to commandeer American policy and fate. Or we predictably have the chance to hammer that splinter deeper into our apathetic collective psyche and prove, that once again, the American people are a hollow, distracted folk who value their cheap consumerism and cheap capitalistic values above systemic change and the strength to exert generational change that will ripple into the lives of our children, their children, and their children.
If we end up voting for First Husband Bill Clinton, I will lose faith in you Americans, but most of all, in myself.