She’s old enough to know better (so cry, baby cry)

It’s more than a day and a dollar late and short, but I’m newly fired up about La Clinton’s momentary emoting.

I can’t pinpoint why, but my inability to pinpoint exactly why I so dislike HC’s campaign has brought me a lot of angst lately.  Like so many women, I’m torn, and feeling a little like a traitor for not blithely supporting another vadge.  Maybe, as some feminists have suggested, it’s because I’m having trouble seeing myself in her campaign.  Maybe I want to be able to connect with her, and her pandering and robot veneer are in the way.

But this crying thing has given new life to my dislike of the campaign.  I’m willing to accept that politics is an elaborate huckster act, keeping all the balls in the air for all the people, all the time.  But for the love of god, at least try to make it seem like it’s authentic.  That’s the whispered contract between the electorate and the candidates, isn’t it?  You pretend like you’re a real person not entirely made of fabrication, and I’ll pretend to feel like I matter to D.C.

Like that old Irish blessing, it’s either one or the other with Clinton’s fraction of a muffled tear.  Either it was genuine, or it was calculated.  If it was genuine, it might say worse things about the feminine mystique than any of the other gender stereotypes the troglodytes have thrown her way.  John Edwards perverted and cut short the debate on the meaning behind Hillary’s tears when he wondered if we want a leader who cries.  The truth is, I do want a leader who cries when it’s necessary.  I wouldn’t elect a leader who didn’t cry on September 11th.  What I can’t bear to stand (vadge or not) is a leader who cries during a campaign.  Yes, they’re levying ad hominem attacks.  That’s how the election cycle rolls.  Which is why I’m more prone to believe that the quasi-tears were contrived.  Here is a woman who held herself with grace and composure while her husband made a fool of her from the White House and while her only child was being ridiculed through puberty on the late night circuit.  Here’s a woman who managed to not shed a tear during those real, emotional quagmires.  Here is a woman often chided for her emotionless exterior.  Is it very likely that one woman’s question at a coffee shop unlocked some secret, special tear duct in Hillary’s heart?

And if it was contrived, then she’s no more than the tramp who cries her way out of a ticket, making the road that much harder for any other woman who follows behind her.  My vote is Obama’s to lose.


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