Cry Me A River Of Blood

It might've been nice had Hillary Clinton wept on camera before, say, when told of the children roasted at Waco, or when shown evidence of her husband's role in strangling Iraqis, or when told of her husband's help in slaughtering Kurds, or when Lebanese and Gazans were blasted by Israeli firepower, or when she voted to have more Iraqis killed. Nothing but dry eyes and applause for the violence. So you'll pardon me if I don't get too worked up over Hillary's tears, shed ostensibly for our glorious homeland and her desire to take us to the mountain top.

Hillary Clinton has blood on her hands, and is looking to keep her fingers a rich, moist crimson. I have zero compassion for her, and that narcissistic display about how "hard" it is running for imperial manager was one of the more nauseating sights I've seen in this whole wretched campaign. That liberals buy into it doesn't surprise me, given their strange attachment to the Clintons over the years, but it does sadden me. And now that Hillary is back in the race, at least for now, there'll doubtless be more hideous, self-centered spectacles to come, with libloggers wagging their fingers at the sexist corporate media, warbling about gender bias, Beltway jealousies, and related gossip games.

Next stop, Michigan, where Hillary is running virtually unopposed. The poor thing.

Is it any wonder why we're the envy of the world?