Just when you thought Hillary Clinton couldn’t be more vile or shameless, along comes her remark about Bobby Kennedy’s assassination on the campaign trail, with unmistakable and undeniable allusions to the prospect of Barack Obama conceivably suffering the same horrible fate.
P+J don’t want to hear the lame defense that her remarks were “taken out of context.” Or using Ted Kennedy’s tragic recent diagnosis of having a brain tumor as a pathetic and insulting effort to explain it away by saying she was thinking of the Kennedy family at the time. Or the typical chiding, arrogant, and just plain disgusting attempt to claim that it was the Obama campaign who was being outrageous by calling attention to this obscene, gutter-level offense.
As anyone knows, this heavy-handed evocation of a nightmare scenario is like Hillary handing a gun to a violent, mentally ill person and saying, “And DO NOT use this to shoot someone who you hate.” It is beyond belief, and shows the craven level to which she has descended — as if implying her supporters were racists weren’t low enough already.
The only upside of this mind-boggling and chilling episode is that it effectively ends any chance she had of being the veep on Obama’s ticket, no matter how hard her husband BJ Bill is pushing for that to happen. No one in the country, never mind Barack Obama, wants a vice president whose eyes would light up if she heard the president of the United States had been shot.
Homo sweet home
By way of the wonderfully hip English soccer magazine, When Saturday Comes, Phillipe and Jorge find out about the availability of our long-sought dream house, the British Casa Diablo. An item in the April 15 issue of the Daily Mail about soccer star Phil Neville and his wife trying to unload their McMansion in Lillibetland seems like it was designed with your superior correspondents in mind:
SALE OF THE WEEK: Phil and Julie Neville are having difficulty selling their £4 million Grade II listed footballer’s mansion. With its Versace-meets-Liberace décor, it will be hard to find a buyer with more money than sense who shares a) the Nevilles’ appalling taste and b) their initials, P&J, which have been etched or woven on to every available surface.
And wait until you see the kitsch-in. Sold!
Must have been the hi-def
While we’re on the subject of international soccer, P+J’s man in Tanzania reports news of trouble after last week’s thrilling European Champions League Cup final between English archrivals Manchester United and Chelsea. We’re told so many people were watching the contest on TV that all the power blew out in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania’s capital. Two days afterward the power was still out, which seems to indicate the old adage “Don’t turn on the hair dryer while the TV is on” still carries some weight in East Africa.
Your superior correspondents have to laugh when we consider all the bills reducing prison time, expunging sentences, and putting limits on drug sentences floating around the General Assembly. We’d like to think that this is happening because, magically, our elected officials have discovered that the way we (and most everyone else in the US) has been doing incarceration doesn’t work very well. But, nooooo! It’s all about the money.