It’s the best time of the year, true, even amid rigged elections and permanent kvetching that the President-elect of the United States lost the “popular” vote by some three, or make it four, million votes, all of them, it would appear, cast in the golden state of California, some even by registered voters. So what are we to make of that? The majoritarian school says no problem. Strike out California, and the President-elect won the popular vote, as well. So here’s the deal. He’ll be president of 49 of America’s 50 states. California can fend for itself.
If it makes it any happier, Hillary can serve as its honorary president. She’ll have to move from bucolic Chappaqua, and, if it’s okay with Gov. Jerry Brown, which it won’t be but what the heck, she can serve as California co-executive. It’s not clear what she’d do in the position, which would be pretty much par for the course she’s chosen in her meaningful life. But at least she wouldn’t have to lie any more than she normally does. Or, if she’d rather expand on her one universally acknowledged skill, she could join Brown in praising the budget surplus California has miraculously achieved.
On the other hand, a rather deadly hand at that, Mr. Putin could still have “a personal beef against me,” as she has termed it. Oddly, she didn’t call this bovine slur sexist, or animalist, but better than anyone, she knows that a festering grudge can only grow uglier. How might it manifest itself? You’ll recall that Russia under the czars laid claim to lots of California, all the way down to San Francisco, which, to this day, retains a small Russian-speaking community. And you know Putin. Wherever anyone still speaks Russian, he has staked a revanchist claim to that geographic area on behalf of Mother Russia. So on top of all the other problems California has on its borders, it could now be facing a future no less secure than that of Russia’s Baltic neighbors. “I can see Russia from my house” will become a Marin County refrain. Just sayin’, as we do at Enemy Central. Hillary knows how to pick ’em.
Moving to the only state that really likes her would entail some sacrifice. No more walks with her husband in the woods of Chappaqua, for one thing. “It’s not uncommon to run into the Clintons in the nature preserves,” the Washington Post reported last weekend, divulging more than perhaps it should have. Not only is she in the company of her husband, it writes, but she always has her poodle with her. Now that Zsa Zsa has left us, Hollywood clearly has a need for a new diva with poodle in tow. But what about Bill? The Clintons’ fairy tale life leaves us stuck on Little Red Riding Hood. All those walks in the woods bring to mind Bill as the Big Bad Wolf and Hill as Little Red Riding Hood, just about. She’s little, check, red, check, and, according to RICO standards, a hood. Except we’ve never seen her riding, at least not on any equestrian creature. Perhaps in California she’ll take up polo. Or become a jockey at Santa Anita. Bill Shoemaker’s records just beg to be broken.
Stay tuned for more, as we broaden our researches into California’s future. If it wanted Hillary so badly, it’s only fair we do our part to see that it gets what it asked for.
