Today was the Pennsylvania Democratic Primary. Hanging on to any shred of hope, against the odds and all evidence to the contrary, Hillary Clinton remains determined to stick it out and "fight". Because she's "a fighter".*sigh*
Hillary has become that girl at the prom who hasn't quite gotten the clue that nobody wants to dance with her. She moves in a personal fantasy world, determinedly oblivious to the fact that nobody's going to make out with her tonight ... she keeps trying to talk to different boys, smiling expectantly. Now she's trying to get in a limo to the after party, while the people inside are making quick excuses that there's no more room in the car, Hill, but she just knows she can fit!
Barack, the nice kid, who had spent all school year being kind to her, now sits in the corner of the limo, uncomfortably half-smiling toward her before looking down at his shoes as the doors of the limo close and it pulls away, leaving her standing at the curb.
She's that girl. Nobody wants to remember that girl, and the suffering she brought upon herself. Because we're reminded of the suffering we wrought upon ourselves through our complicity.
No comments:
Post a Comment