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Hillary Clinton Goes Varmint Hunting

In an old stand-up routine, Woody Allen told the story of his ill-fated trip to a costume party in the deep south. He decided to dress up as a ghost and, through a series of mishaps the reader can probably … Read More

By / April 14, 2008

In an old stand-up routine, Woody Allen told the story of his ill-fated trip to a costume party in the deep south. He decided to dress up as a ghost and, through a series of mishaps the reader can probably fill in, Woody found himself in the clutches of four burly Klansmen determined to lynch him:

Suddenly my whole life passed before my eyes. I saw myself as a kid again in Kansas, going to school, and swimmin' at the old swimmin' hole and fishin' and fryin' up a mess o' catfish and going down to the general store and gettin' a piece of gingham for Emmy Lou and suddenly I realized, hey that's not my life! They’re going to hang me in two minutes and somebody else’s life is flashing before my eyes.

After Barack Obama committed the Kinsley-gaffe of saying what he really thinks about the pro-God, pro-gun, anti-gay, anti-trade culture of the rustbelt, Hillary Clinton might as well have asked Woody Allen to script her response. He couldn't have done a worse job than Mark Penn and Howard Wolfson, who greenlighted Clinton's recent serial recounting of the time the life of a Bosnian soldier flashed before her eyes. With her opponent reeling from his offense against the sportsman's ethos, what else could Clinton have done but hallucinate another identity that isn't hers:

You know, my dad took me out behind the cottage that my grandfather built on a little lake called Lake Winola outside of Scranton and taught me how to shoot when I was a little girl…You know, some people now continue to teach their children and their grandchildren. It’s part of culture. It’s part of a way of life. People enjoy hunting and shooting because it’s an important part of who they are.

And of course, as a child of that culture and that way of life, Hillary Clinton is eminently qualified to testify to the centrality of huntin' and swimmin' and fishin' and fryin' to the core identity of real Americans. She is, after all, a simple girl from rural Illinois whose granpappy taught her to shoot and trap, skills that paved the way for her to graduate as the valedictorian of her class at Wellesley and go on to Yale Law School and work as counsel for an assortment of multi-billion dollar corporations. When opportunism civic pride called her to run for elective office, what could a blue-collar midwestern patriot do but take a piss on Illinois, Pennsylvania, Arkansas, and any other state she could plausibly call home? By accepting a gift-wrapped senate seat from Chuck Shumer, Clinton also managed to crush the ambitions of elitist latte-sipping New Yorkers like Nita Lowey, thereby striking a double-blow for feminism and the unpretentious Methodist values of the Rodham clan.

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