There was a poignancy about the moment, seeing Hillary crack with exhaustion from decades of yearning to be the principal rather than the plus-one. But there was a whiff of Nixonian self-pity about her choking up. What was moving her so deeply was her recognition that the country was failing to grasp how much it needs her. In a weirdly narcissistic way, she was crying for us. But it was grimly typical of her that what finally made her break down was the prospect of losing.I don't even back this candidate yet, but I'm damn tired of the rhetoric.
On Iowa's caucus night, Chris Matthews opined (I think it was him) that these droves of new voters, young voters, really didn't have an issue with race. It really wasn't on their radar or part of their math. I think that's true. It probably is true for more than just these younger generations - or it would be if the overwhelming theme of coverage weren't "Does it really not matter that Obama is black?" Puh-lease.
The same can be said about the Woman Issue. We can't get out of our damn way in our rush to convince the world that it's no big deal. Except it is.
Get it straight, y'all: Hillary didn't cry. Crying, involves tears. I saw a bit of pink in the eyes and heard a tightened throat but saw NOTHING rolling down her cheeks.
Now, the old chestnut contained in this sort of reaction doesn't seem to work: One reporter who covers security issues cringed. “We are at war,” he said. “Is this how she’ll talk to Kim Jong-il?”
Uh-oh. We've lost our narrative. What now? Oh, I know, it's all a set-up. Calculated. She got emotional on cue, the bitch.
She became emotional because she feared that she had reached her political midnight, when she would suddenly revert to the school girl with geeky glasses and frizzy hair, smart but not the favorite. All those years in the shadow of one Natural, only to face the prospect of being eclipsed by another Natural?Hell, maybe I will vote for her after all. 'Cause that's my nightmare too.