Christmas came early Sunday with an epic defense of Clintonism in the New York Times Magazine. You know, that style of politics defined by that foot fetishist Republican pollster who secretly plotted Clinton's 1996 victory while spilling all those Martian secrets so he could get some hooker to let him suck her toes? What was that guy's name, Dick... Dick Morris! Remember him? Well, good, because the story only mentions him once in a whole 10,000 words, which is soooooo much less credit than he deserves for, at the very least, giving me and Megan something to talk about besides having to go to church and move the car and subject ourselves to Redskins games and, oh yeah, work on motherfucking Christmas Eve.
BAH: hey dude
merry christmas eve
Merry Christmas Eve! I both started and finished my Christmas shopping last night
BAH: Yeah, I started and did not finish.
I think the Georgetown Barnes and Noble is open till four or six or something
When are you blogging till
HUMBUG: Until I get 5 entires done?
Or, you know, entries
BAH: haha ok well skim this
IT's like, a defense of Clintonism
HUMBUG: Sigh. I got a copy of the new edition of Bernstein's book in the mail to review. I nearly clawed my eyes
BAH: oh there's a NEW edition?
I read the first fifty pages or something
She was kind of an irritating little kid but you blame it mostly on her dad.
HUMBUG: yeah, there's a new afterword he wrote in October
BAH: Does he endorse her? Or not?
HUMBUG: I, um, only read the afterword
Bill Clinton's dick may be a liability.
BAH: Um ok so like there are these Democrats who call themselves progressives who remember Bill best not for his pheremone-spraying charm or his splooge-shooting failings but for something called TRIANGULATION. Have you heard of these people?
HUMBUG: Wait, and these the same people that whine about him not being liberal enough or something?
BAH: Here's the best part:
There were five syllables that for these Democrats summed up all the failures of Clintonism: "triangulation." The word was originally popularized by Dick Morris, who advised Clinton in the dark days of the mid-'90s (and who, not incidentally, was brought in to the White House by the first lady). Triangulation, as Morris intended it, is probably best described as the strategy of co-opting the issues that attract voters to your opponents by substituting centrist solutions for the ideological ones they propose, thus depriving them of victory. (In other words, if your opponents are getting traction with their demands to dismantle a broken welfare system, you acknowledge the problem but propose a middle-ground way of restructuring it instead.)
HUMBUG: So, the same people. I am annoyed by those people. Maybe, just maybe, the Clintons just aren't that liberal?
BAH: Which is interesting because I, like, thought that triangulation was sort of like the doctrine of pre-emption, only instead of bringing "democracy" to other countries we did it right here by anticipating what the Republicans were going to say and then being like "dibs! I call DIBS on ending welfare! ha ha ha you stupid Republicans!"
I also love how the story gives absolutely no context on Dick Morris. Nor does it call him for a quote
HUMBUG: Well, really, who would want to have to talk to Dick Morris?
Also, in my head, I'm now hearing Bill Clinton shouting "dibs!" on the phone at Newt Gingrich and cackling maniacally.
BAH: Dude, when you've spent an hour in the presence of Paul Janka toe-sucking is so not a big deal.
HUMBUG: I would not volunteer to have Dick Morris suck my toes, but I'm not anti-toe-sucking. Also, I'm happy that Dick Morris solved his toe sucking "problem" by finding Catholicism, because Catholocism totes solves sexual addiction. Just ask a priest!
Also, did Dick suck Hillary's toes, do you think? Would Bill have been upset with someone sucking Hillary's toes?
Hrm. I hope my mother's priest doesn't read crappy hour, or Mass is going to be really awkward tonight. Like, more awkward than the last Christmas I went and the homily was all about abortion. That was awkward.
BAH: Oh it couldn't have been worse than this mass I went to one time where the homily was all about abortion. I don't think I'm going to mass. I suppose they'll try to drag me. I went to a bar last night to see some high school friends and we were discussing this. Like, probably the only thing more painful than sitting through an hour of a mass about abortion is an hour of having an abortion itself.
I'm not quite sure why this is.
HUMBUG: Mass is part of my mother's Xmas present. I don't take Communion though. Last night, I also hung out with one of my high school friends at a dive bar and discussed: Judas Priest, the creepy guy with no teeth who kept telling me how nice my "thiths" are, Mike Huckabee, the fact that my friend's brother made us sniff his pot (smelled like basil) and half the bar went out the back to do lines.
BAH: See, that is so much awesome. I suggested this bar in Alexandria called Chadwick's because it's usually empty Sundays and I can hog the jukebox, and then OMG THE REDSKINS GAME I TOTALLY FORGOT THEY JUST FUCKING LOVE THOSE REDSKINS IN ALEXANDRIA OMG SO GLAD WE HAVE THIS AVENUE THROUGH WHICH TO CONVEY OUR CIVIC PRIDE.
HUMBUG: I am perfectly willing to go on record here and say that I don't like football. At. All.
BAH: So that when they win we can all throw up in the bathroom and when they lose we can all throw up in the bathroom and complain about those juiced overpaid thugs with no morals who will play for any fucking team that pays them...
HUMBUG: I was the only woman in the bar I was at. The bathrooms were exceedingly clean. That's probably where the dudes do lines when it gets too cold outside.
Well, then, here's to getting drunk at home tonight! Merry Christmas!
BAH: Ooooh back! also I'm on the rage. I mean, the rag.
HUMBUG: Red wine, hotpacks and cookies.
BAH: Oh no, and now my dad is hinting that he got me something very akin to this bag I have for christmas. There are things I could actually use for Christmas, you know? A coffee maker, boots, mittens, a hat. Another mug, for company. A serrated knife or two. BASIC NEEDS. Ugh. Gratuitous, I know, but: Fuck Christmas.
HUMBUG: Shit, I'll get you an extra mug. I've got like 10
plus, all the mittens in the world will be on sale in 48 hours.
BAH: yeah and I'LL BE AT MY FUCKING COMPUTER NOT BUYING THEM. But my dad means well. Also he is useful! He just reminded me how he told that girlfriend of his about some top secret NASA discovery of life on Mars... which maybe turned out to bullshit.
HUMBUG: You're dad talked UFOs to get laid? awesome.
BAH: Is it homophobic to ask if sex scandals were more fun when more of their participants were straight?