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...a sweatshop of moxie

Monday, July 28, 2008

The Biggest Loser After Obama's World Tour

Is not, as you might be forgiven to imagine, Senator John McCain -- the Illinois' Senator's rival for the Presidency.

The biggest loser following Senator Barack Obama's triumphal foreign tour (one might even call it a procession) is actually Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Just imagine for a second, seeing this international Love Parade for Obama, through her eyes.

She was a mere 5 months away from having precisely the same kind of treatment accorded to Obama, herself, but for a few Super Tuesdays along the thorny way.

Don't think foreign media wouldn't have treated her any less fawningly had she, and not he, been the presumptive Democratic nominee.

If Americans are tired of the Clintons, something which contributed to her inability to seal the deal in June, Europeans and other foreigners are emphatically not.

The Clintons are still seen through a rosier prism of admiration by others than Americans view them -- a not uncommon phenomenon in geopolitics, which Mikhail Gorbachev as one example, can attest to.

It's simple why this happens, actually. Whilst foreigners can admire certain aspects of a foreign leader, they do not have to live the daily realities of being governed by them.

When we see Glasnost, they see Soviet degradation and collapse. Similarly, whilst we see Bill's needy historionics, and hear Hillary's cackle of entitlement, they see the ultimate liberal power couple of the Boomer generation.

So put yourself in her shoes for a minute, as this past week unfolded itself.

How many times do you think this woman thought to herself:

- Hey, that could've been me being driven by King Abdullah himself in his fly Mercedes 600 to the airport.

- That could've been me being greeted by throngs of (if not adoring, at least appreciative) Berliners, happy to see a Clinton in charge again.

- That could've been me, schmoozing with Sarkozy at the Elysée; me with Merkel just like when I glowingly received a German media award, a scant 3 years ago.

Me inspecting the troops with a jaunty jacket over my shoulder; me caught by a hot mic chit-chatting with Gordon Brown about my future plans back in 1600. Even Bill might've been gladhanding his way through the throngs again, happy to bask in the reflected glory.

On and on and on. One heart-stabbing visual popping up with every turn of the newspaper page, staring at her in the face.

It really must have been absolutely gruelling to have been Hillary Clinton this past week.

That exclamation point after Hillary! was like a limpid wet flag flying in the wind, during a washed out rock concert. A reminder of what fun times were to be had, if only fate hadn't decided to laugh in her face.

Poor Hillary.

If Barack is the world's exciting new boyfriend, Hillary is the run down, nagging first wife finally got rid of, at last.

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