Washington Babylon — May 8, 2008, 8:02 am

Why I Like Hillary: She’s a bloodthirsty monster

I’ve received quite a few complaints in recent months from readers who think I’m pro–Hillary Clinton and anti–Barack Obama. In fact, I believe Obama has better politics than Clinton, is personally more honorable, and that his victory would represent an important generational shift in American politics.

That said, there are a few things that make me like Hillary. First, she’s a bloodthirsty monster who’ll stop at nothing in her quest for power. That is refreshing, given that the Democrats’ default presidential-campaign strategy is to whine about how rough the Republicans play and to get trounced. Another thing that warms me to Clinton is that the media (in general) hates her and loves Obama, which makes me sympathetic toward her and suspicious toward him.

Yesterday I posted an item about a New York magazine piece by Kurt Andersen, who acknowledges his own “crush” on Obama and the media’s general tilt toward his candidacy and away from Clinton’s. I received a number of emails in reply, including this one:

Andersen alludes to another thing that the media misses. They all miss that Clinton’s demographic isn’t the media, it is people who have day jobs and who can’t blog, bloviate, or otherwise slam Obama, or defend her. It’s also generational. Older voters are probably not blogging. Nor does his demographic in the media have any understanding of her demographic other than dismissive phrases like “Joe Six-Pack.” That is part of what makes this race so remarkable: even though she is roughly even in votes, it as if her constituency doesn’t really exist and isn’t important even though it represents a lot more of the country than his might.

Another thing is this Orwellian tale of how somebody who wins has actually lost is repeated and reinforced. At the end of the day, which is more undemocratic: winning a state contest outright or “winning” through losing [as Obama did in Indiana] by a small enough percentage to keep enough delegates in hand? It seems the latter is. Why not just say he lost? In a convoluted, elitist system of picking a nominee, he can win without actually winning. That is just as true as the critique of Clinton trying to sway superdelegates. The real story might be how lame the Democrat’s primary/caucus process is and how it reinforces the stereotype they want to shed: that they are elite and out of touch with a lot of voters.

I’m not pro-Obama or pro-Clinton. I’m just really stunned by the coverage and (lack of) analysis by the media generally—or perhaps stunned how their analysis is unabashedly elitist and out of touch with a vast number of voters.

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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