Send Out the Clowns
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Send Out the Clowns
NYT
[Editors Note: I would guess that the clown was Hughie2U
for those that know who he is.]
WASHINGTON -- It was a good night to feel sorry for Bill
Clinton.
The impeached President was throwing a big Christmas
party for his tormentors in the press. It seemed too much
to ask, after the December he has endured, that he should
have to entertain the people who have brought to the
world's attention all his flaws and felonious behavior. A
White House party in this season of peace, good will and
impeachment seemed too strange to miss.
On Sunday The Times printed the recollections of Mark
Twain, who went, as a 32-year-old journalist, to a reception
at Andrew Johnson's White House on the eve of that
President's impeachment.
"I confess I went out of a thoughtless curiosity to see how
the Chief Magistrate bore himself under these untoward
circumstances," Twain wrote. "I never saw a man who
seemed as friendless and forsaken."
Still thoughtlessly curious 130 years later, 6,000 journalists
piled into a long line at the White House gate on Monday
night. Once in awhile a clown -- I mean, a real clown --
pranced by. Waiting, I mused how odd it was that a
President who seemed so cuddly and eager to please had
ended up creating so much chaos.
There is something about him -- maybe the feeling that he's
always getting away with something -- that drives people
crazy. In Washington, we refer to this polarizing effect as
"Clinton poisoning." He drove Ken Starr crazy. He drove
the Republicans crazy. He drove pundits crazy. He drove
his staff crazy. He drove the country crazy; even if you
don't want Mr. Clinton impeached, it doesn't make sense
for him to have such celestial approval ratings.
Once inside, we were greeted by the saturnine portrait of
Andrew Johnson, and two rooms down there was Andrew
Jackson, the only President to be censured. After another
hour of standing in line to stand in another line, we finally
reached a huddled mass of humanity waiting on the South
Lawn to jam itself into an overheated tent. Inside there
were only more clowns and wilted cookies.
I waited in still another line, trying to snag an eggnog while
a singer on stage warbled badly about putting on "your
bright red jammies." I couldn't help but dream of the giant
buffet tables of White House Christmases past, those
platters heaped with shrimp and succulent lamb chops,
and agree with my friends that this party was the Clintons'
revenge on us.
Feet aching and deprived of sustenance, I thought about all
the other things that have gone crazy this year.
Feminism is ruined. That was clear once again when that
self-styled feminist iconette, Geraldine Ferraro, pitched in
to help the President on the impeachment vote by lobbying
Republican women in the House. Calling Tillie Fowler of
Florida, Ms. Ferraro made her pitch: "Tillie, a man is a
man is a man." And when the matriarch of feminism, Betty
Friedan, lobbied for the President by saying, "Even if he
did what he is alleged to have done, what's the big deal?"
Journalism is ruined. Now Larry Flynt, Matt Drudge and
Salon are running the show, dishing the dirt, while the rest
of us try to figure out where that slippery little line between
private and public is.
Sex scandals are ruined. Like "The Blue Room," the Oval
Office was all about sex without being sexy. If only David
Hare could be impeached, and Bill Clinton could get bad
reviews.
Socializing is ruined. Nobody can go to dinner here
anymore without getting into a screaming match over Bill
Clinton's sex life.
Contrition is ruined. The Clinton confessions lose in
authenticity as they gain in frequency. The only thing he's
really sorry about is that he got caught. And then, the
minute things start to go well for him, he becomes
overconfident and slips up.
At a White House party for supporters on Sunday, he once
again compared himself to Nelson Mandela, telling an L.A.
Times reporter that the South African hero had advised
him not to give his heart and mind to his adversaries. If he
means that he should not become vindictive, then the
lesson is the right one. If he means that he can paint
himself as a political martyr, then here we go again.
I fled the stuffy tent without laying eyes on the President to
see if he looked "friendless and forsaken." But I still felt
sorry for the guy. He must drive himself crazy too.
\\/ayne //\ann
10th Amendment
The powers not delegated to the United States by the
Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are
reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.