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Decline and fall

By Michael J. Smith on Sunday September 5, 2010 09:30 PM

I wouldn't have thought anything could possibly make me miss Bill Clinton, but I had forgotten about Smith's Twenty-Fourth Rule of Life, which states that every President makes you nostalgic for his predecessors.

Nostalgia for Bush Jr may take a few more weeks, but suddenly I miss Bill. A sidelong obiter-dictum in the previous post gelled it for me: this administration is a crashing bore. Even blogging about them -- easy as blogging is -- starts to seem like a Sisyphean sentence to a life of endless, unrewarded tedium.

But Clinton! Not nearly as much fun as Nixon, of course -- who could compete? But good God amighty, it's all relative, and where's the louche zaftig girl in this administration?

Obie needs to start shtupping the interns, preferably under the gaze of a surveillance camera concealed in one of those dull heavy artless plaster moldings in the Oval Office. It's his only chance of re-election, and more importantly, it's the only actual human pleasure his life might have to offer, poor man.

Comments (6)

Oh, I dunno. He gets to sign orders for predator drone strikes on civilian targets.


Let's see, what would it take for Obie to top Bill? How about a history of gay bathhouse attendance in his Chicago days? Of course, that isn't really entertaining, it's just pathetically ordinary, unlike Bill's ultimately theatrical act of unzipping his pants in the WH! What flair! What loveable exhitionism! What accurate symbolization of the true dignity of the office!

BTW -- has anyone read Blair's book? The guy's a madman!

Rock that thong, Monica! We fat sisters need love, too!


I dread the idea of reading Blair's book, and I won't pay for a copy, on principle. Anybody who can steal a copy is welcome to discuss it here.

As for Monica -- she's got something going, doesn't she? Is it the bold insouciance -- I don't fucking *care* what my body fat index is?

Whatever it is, she's irresistible, and this may be the one thing, apart from Southern origins and a love of fried food, that ole Bill and I have in common.

The cigar, though -- I don't understand that, at all, and it really creeps me out. Nihil humanum a me alienum puto, as the man said, but in practice there are limits.


American Leftist (amleft.blogspot.com) has two posts of twittered selections from Blair's book. I don't know how twitter works, but here it's a bunch of short quotations, illustrating the bizarre, crypto-fascist character of Blair's mind.


I could read the blog, just not see the picture, please. My poor girl, her life....! O! The same thing happened to me -- except that the man wasn't married, he was gay, and I know that my life has been ruined forever. But hers?! Why? Just 'cause she's fat?!

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