Don’t believe the haters. You are the answer to America’s most burning question: who should be the titular leader the Democrats so desperately crave? Stiffen your upper lip. Have your most matronly pantsuit steamed and pressed. Shake out that coif with pride, sister. Listen to what your black, battle-worn heart whispers in the darkness. Be the shining beacon of hope Democrats can mindlessly follow to electoral victory!
With the affirmations firmly set, let’s review the following pettish trifle together. The New York Times hired a toddler to pen a rather negative OpEd about you, putting the small-minded girl to work in the corner of her daycare, armed with nothing but construction paper and a thick crayon. It wasn’t even burnt sienna. Don’t get me started. Anyway, Michelle Cottle had this to say about you, Hillary, the smartest woman who has ever touched buckled-boot to soil:
This is the sort of moral arrogance and self-justification that has long troubled even many Democrats about Mrs. Clinton. The former first lady, turned senator, turned secretary of state may have been one of the most qualified nominees ever to run for president. But widespread ambivalence about her among not only swing voters but also her own base set the stage for her to lose the presidency to arguably the least qualified individual ever to hold that office.
My heart just breaks. A single tear slides down my face as I write this letter to you, Madam Clinton. You were then — and are now — the most qualified, most dignified, most enlightened Democrat since Ted Kennedy wrung the waters of Chappaquiddick from his coat. Let no one, especially a petulant kindergartner at the New York Times, convince you otherwise.
Yes, you lost the presidency to a reality television star who couldn’t use proper capitalization to save a nation. Sure, the defeat was unexpected. But why was it unexpected? Everyone thought you would clinch the presidency just as you clinched the server-wiping cloth or something. The presidency was surely yours! Because you, Madam Secretary, deserved to lead this country to its most chaotic years of social justice jihadism.
And only you still can. That “widespread ambivalence” among “swing voters” and “your own base” the glue-sniffing Michelle Cottle dribbled on about, is nothing but an opportunity. Those voters are people waiting for your guidance. Like sheep waiting for the
slaughter shepherd. They’re hungry for REAL leadership. I suggest you summon John Podesta and Lady Gaga for a spirit cooking. Talk about your next move over sips of fetal blood. Ruminate about better passwords. Wouldn’t want those nosy ruskies hacking into your servers again, am I right?
…a spokesman for the Republican National Committee boasted of his party’s plan to hang her around Democrats’ neck in the midterms: “We’re going to make them own her.”
Tish tosh! Such plans are decoys! The RNC secretly fears your abundant genius. The mere utterance of your name sends shivers of fear down the collective spines of every elected and non-elected man, woman or gender-fluid dog-playing pervert with an (R) following their name. The Democrats are proud of you. Why else did they want you to run for president not once, but twice? Why else if not for a confidence that you, Madam Hillary, would win the hearts of the American people?
Americans are a forgiving, loving people. The scandals of Benghazi, secret bathroom-stashed servers, and a husband who may or may not have “raped” people is in the past. Don’t believe these new #MeToo adherents. Rape is just a fancy word for… well, I’ll get back to you on that. These new wide-eyed Democrats, in some cases the literal wide-eyed Democrats like Nina Pinta Santa Maria Cortez, they haven’t the fortitude to lead a party, much less a nation. Nothing compares, NOTHING COMPARES, to you!
So please, Hillary Clinton, I implore you. Let not these cruel open letters by rags like The New York Times diminish your ambitions. Heed not the caution thrown at you by Democrat “leaders.” Where would the Democrat Party be without you? Who would the Democrats be without your poise, your calm, your steadfast ways, your exemplary sense of pantsuited style? Who would the Democrat Party be without your pithy, split-tongue insults about deplorable baskets? You are a marketing sorceress. A branding demon. A moral compass which points ever to three-pronged victory.
Be seen, Madam Hillary. Lead. Shoulder the mantle of your own wicked greatness and take your Democrat Party exactly where it deserves.