Hillary Clinton Is A Sick Woman Addicted To Power, And It’s Pitiful To Watch
Sep. 6, 2016 12:24pm
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There have been many words used to describe this election season.
Words
like “depressing” and “ominous” and “irritating” and “terrifying” and
“infuriating” and “apocalyptic,” etc. All of these descriptions are
quite accurate, even if they tend to understate things a bit.
But
there’s a particular term, on top of all of these other very
appropriate ones, that has been coming to my mind with increasing
regularity whenever I read the latest news from the campaign trail. It’s
the first adjective that popped into my head when I saw this clip of
Hillary Clinton at a rally on Monday, unable to begin her speech
because she was in the middle of a violent coughing fit. As I watched
the awkward footage of this woman wheezing and sputtering for breath on
stage, I could only shake my head and mutter one word: pitiful.
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It’s pitiful. Just pitiful.
Hillary Clinton is many things, most of them bad, but she is nothing if not pitiful. There have been rumors flying around for months surrounding her declining health, and every coughing fit, every image of the candidate needing help to walk up the stairs, every time she falls down, every lengthy break she takes from the trail, every piece of evidence must lead an observant person to the conclusion that
Hillary Clinton is not exactly a picture of health and vitality. And
all of these concerns seemed to be officially validated late last week
when an authority on Hillary Clinton’s health came forward to confirm
them. That authority being Hillary Clinton herself.
It was revealed on
Friday that, while being interviewed by the FBI, Clinton cited brain
damage and a blood clotting problem as reasons why she couldn’t remember
vital details from her time at the State Department. Her health was so
bad, she claimed, that she was forced to stay home and illegally conduct
government business on her secret private servers. This is a weak — and
yes, pitiful — excuse, but we can say with relative certainty that she
did have these medical issues. And, even if she’s embellishing and using
them as cover to weasel out of felony charges, it does seem true that
her various health crises impeded her ability to operate competently as
Secretary of State. This is according to her own testimony, remember.
(Photo by Bill Pugliano/Getty Images)
Her
physical frailty is understandable, of course. She’s pushing 70 years
old. She’s an elderly woman. She’s less than a decade away from the
average age of death for females in the United States. This is about the
time when many human beings start to slow down. At this point, or in a
few short years, they find that their bodies begin to fail them, their
health becomes a constant concern, and they spend more time at the
doctor’s office than they’d spent, cumulatively, through their first six
or seven decades on Earth. It’s quite natural, and we’ll all go through
it if we’re fortunate enough to live that long.
So
it’s not Hillary’s physical malfunctions that I call pitiful. She can’t
be blamed or judged harshly for those, obviously. The pitiful thing is
that she — a sick old lady with a lifetime of scandal and corruption to
her name, an unofficial criminal record, a sex predator husband, and a
closet full of skeletons and dirty laundry that have been and will
continue to be uncovered and aired publicly, at least on the internet if
not on CNN — is still so desperate for control and authority that she
cannot give up the pursuit, even if it kills her. We are all witnessing
this disgraced and despised woman as she scratches and bites and
kicks and crawls through the muck and the mud, coughing and gasping for
breath along the way, hoping to drink from the Cup of Absolute Power
just one time before she goes.
It’s
hard to watch, honestly. It’s like an episode of Cops where the meth
head comes screaming out of her trailer, half naked and half insane,
scratching and punching at the police officer who confiscated her drugs.
There’s nothing funny or entertaining about it. You can’t take delight
in seeing a woman lose every last shred of whatever dignity she had
left. But at least with Cops you can turn it off or change the channel
without having to worry that the poor addict from the trailer park will
be in charge of the whole country come January.
Indeed,
Hillary is just like the trailer park meth head, the only difference is
the pantsuit. And that her elixir of choice is power rather than
methamphetamine. And, scariest of all, that she may soon get her hands
on the purest and most potent drug on the market: the presidency.
Putting this power-obsessed junkie in the Oval Office would be like
taking that drug addict from Cops and making her CEO of Pfizer. A
guaranteed catastrophe, both for her and for everyone else.
Hillary
Clinton has more than enough money from her Wall Street speaking gigs
to step away from public life and live her final years in peace,
comfort, and prosperity. She could run her foundation from the shadows
and pick up a
few million from foreign dictatorships here and there, and spend the
rest of her time doing whatever rich women do when they retire. She
could have done the right thing for herself and the country.
She
could have escaped the physical toll of the campaign trail, and the
shame and embarrassment of being one of the most hated, distrusted, and
incompetent presidential candidates in history. She could have avoided
the disgrace of potentially losing to Donald Trump, only 8 years after
losing the primary to a no-name junior Senator from Illinois. She could
have passed the baton to someone else — anyone else
— and that person would have breezed through the general election and
won the White House in a landslide for the godless Democrats (provided
Trump is still the nominee in this fanciful alternate universe).
She
could have gone to her doctor’s appointments, taken care of her health
problems without scrutiny from the peanut gallery, and lived in ease and
luxury with all of her skeletons buried and her dirty laundry packed
away and out of sight. But she chose this path instead. One of shame,
disgrace, and intense physical strain.
Why?
Because
this is all she knows how to do. It’s all she has ever lived for. She
strives for power because she simply can’t conceive of doing anything
else, which is reason enough never to give it to her. She chases after
the presidency because she has to
have it, she can’t live without it, she can’t face the possibility of
never having it. Hillary Clinton refuses to exist in a world that she
doesn’t control.
She
is, in more than one sense, very much like Gollum, only without the
cave or the riddles or the alliance with a giant man-eating spider
(well, besides Debbie Wasserman Schultz). Indeed, I can imagine Hillary
finally sitting behind the desk in the Oval Office for the first time
after being sworn in, swiveling slightly in her chair, gliding her hands
across the shiny wood, gingerly touching the pen that she will use that
afternoon to sign the Executive Orders banning guns and legalizing
partial birth abortion across the country, and whispering lustily to
herself, “My precious.”
It’s
this image of a power-hungry madwoman who has tried to manipulate and
coerce and blackmail and lie her way to the White House that leads many
people to describe her in terms more suited to a super villain than a
drug addict. Those terms — “dangerous,” “corrupt,” “wicked,” etc. — are
all fitting, without a doubt. But we can’t forget that there is also
something quite sad and pitiful, even tragic, about this woman and her
lifelong hunt for political domination.
And
if she manages to finally seize the throne, it will somehow be even
more pitiful than if she loses again and is forced to retreat into
obscurity once and for all. Pitiful because she will be reveling in the
thing she dedicated her whole life to chasing, only to find that the
pain and longing in her soul cannot be satisfied by mere power, and that
the stresses and rigors of the job are only hastening the end of
the life that she wasted pursuing it. It is sad to think of a person at
the end of their life trying desperately to enjoy the hollow rewards of
their corruption and sin. Not to go back to this analogy again (sorry,
I’m a nerd), but it’s like Gollum finally putting on the ring and
basking in its power as he plunges into the fires of Mount Doom.
Don’t
get me wrong. I feel more sorry for my children, who will have to grow
up in a country controlled by the likes of Hillary Clinton, than I do
for Hillary Clinton herself. But that does not change the fact that she
is a sad character. Dangerous, yes. Scary, yes. Corrupt, yes. But
pitiful. Just pitiful.
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