Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Bill Clinton at 75, the Archetype of the Type

Bill Clinton turned 75 in August, born the first year of the Baby Boom generation. (15 months after me.) As you know “Laws of Generations” are a big deal with me in defining and recording history. It’s also important in grafting in our minds a unified theory as to what to do about the now-four generations that are succeeding us.

Bill Clinton is like that country rube that came on the bus with his ma and pa to visit the big city, (coulda been Little Rock, didn’t have to be New York), and looked up at the tall buildings (didn’t have to be skyscrapers) then just let roll out a slow “Sha-zaa-ammm”…then one day came back to run that big city. And even that state. And pluck as many of the high-haired precious lilies of the field as he could for nigh onto twelve years, beginning when he just 31.

 

That meteoric climb may not have had anything to do with getting laid, but I’ll wager a dollar against a doughnut, in Bill Clinton’s mind, it did. “The one ring that ruled it all, self-gratification.”

I believe that drove Clinton’s entire world view. And as you likely know, if you’ve ever stopped to think about it self-gratification is the driving force found in all the Seven Deadly Sins, each, by contrast, countered by the Seven Virtues. (Look them up.) Humans struggle with this inner conflict all their lives, for no one is born loving their neighbor. And most have to be taught.

Why I think I understand Bill Clinton better than most is not because I was a horn dog, although I might have been had my daddy given me a car and sent me to college with an allowance. Instead, my first visitation to a “big city” was Lexington, Kentucky, in 1964, as a freshman at state university. It was in Lexington that I saw my first tall buildings, up to eight stories I suppose (I never counted), only there the comparison stopped. I had to learn the lay of the lands as I would walk a route 10 clocks to Main Street, turn right, then walk about a mile, in front of Henry Clay’s estate, where I could begin hitchhiking out to the interstate, and then south for 75 miles or so, before heading east back into the snuggest part of the state, my home town, on a series of two-lane highways. That last 45-mile leg could take as many as five hours, the last hoof up a long hill (on the right). I did that 3-4 times a year.

So, my experiences in college were nowhere near Bill Clinton’s, but that is not to say the enticements were not the same. During the ’92 campaign we heard of his “bimbo eruptions”. Being a football player in high school I took note that he’d been in the band, so knew that if he was chasing skirts it was not with his masculinity. He had to be some kind of sweet talker. Or, he was working the low hanging fruit. We had those too in my university.

So even before Paula Jones broke her silence midway through his first term, Clinton had captured the attention of most every red-blooded American male, and more young ladies than who would care to admit it, recognizing him as just the very type he was portrayed as being and one they’d all been acquainted with, at least from a distance. Only, instead of going on defense, his staff (actually managed by Hillary, we later found out) went on the attack, a style which has served Democrats well ever since, for its audacity apparently has become a silver bullet aimed at the heads of Republicans, also a type, who naturally flinch, even to this day…and is partly why I write this today.

Then Paula Jones erupted; a genuinely innocent girl, state employee, solicited by Clinton’s state police detachment, then un-zipped and exposed by her governor, only shocked instead of honored, as farm girls were supposed to feel when the lord of the manor paid them special attention. But she waited 3 years to sue for damages, once he was in the White House. Oh, she eventually won, but it took 4 years…but was just a part of an on-going “bimbo eruption” that had been portrayed as more entertainment than serious politics, inasmuch as Clinton was involved in the capitalizing on the peace dividend, just in case you’re interested in knowing how the Albanians secured a niche in the American sex-slavery and drug trade market.

It had become theater as the American culture, American exceptionalism, and so much more, including education, had hobbled down.

 

I’m writing this now because, at 75, I can survey the damage not that Bill Clinton did, but what our generation allowed by sitting passively by, grabbing some popcorn and watching the show. Our generation was not filled with spoiled-bratlings, or as Ayn Rand called them, “Haters” in 1971. but red-blooded American guys and gals, then in their 40s.

We were not raised to project 20-30 years ahead had we seen a Clinton in our day. He was just one of several types of horndogs who spread out over the campus and most of us recognized him, only from a distance. There were always the stories about the “predators”, Max, akin to the Clinton-type, who, on every date took a girl to the drive-in and pawed at her until she finally slapped him, or got out and walked home or found another ride (apparently that was easy then). But there was also a grudging respect for Max, the moral being that on every 4th of 5th try he scored, and like a cheetah chasing young wildebeest in the Serengeti, where 1-in-5 attempts was a decent score by Nature’s accounting. Max was a known “type” as I expect Clinton was.

Now, everything I’ve just told you I noted about when Bill Clinton ran for president in 1992. I had only been home from watching the fall of the Hammer & Sickle in Russia and Ukraine in the Spring, so was busy trying to find entrepreneurs who would pay for me to go back again on their behalf. At no time did I think this horn dog had a chance.

*    *    *    *    *

I do believe I can speak as expertly about the psychological motivations behind Bill Clinton as could any learned psychologist, even if he could’ve gotten him on the couch, For I also did the Army and infantry training thing, which Bill Clinton deathly feared…

…which means I know why Bill Clinton would never have allowed the military to get their hands on him…having nothing to do with “The War in Vietnam” as a bad political or moral thing. It’s simple; Bill Clinton always knew that as a draftee he would never have been required to serve out a 13 month-tour in Vietnam anywhere other than a desk job in Saigon; a clerk, or maybe even a radio DJ, ( “Good Morning, Vietnam!”).

What Bill Clinton hated, or feared, was having to get out of bed every morning at O-Dark-Thirty for 12 weeks running in boot camp, and to have to make his own bed everytime, and to have to shower alongside a dozen other naked men, and worst of all, to have to allow some big black drill sergeant yell in his face.

 

These, plus the general idea of having to breathe hard in any situation in which a girl in the backseat of his car was not involved was something he would go to the ends of the earth to avoid. Instead, he chose to go to Oxford.

As you can see, there are two kinds of cowardice involved there. I’ll let you decide which best fits your picture of the man.

 

Bill Clinton is a type of a Type.

Without knowing these things I’ve just told you, not even a shrink who had him on the couch could ever guess what drove Bill Clinton’s ambitions, by rank, 1, 2, 3, and what causes him to rank them; a fear, a conscious choice, or an irresistible urge? By his own words we know he’d papered-over his “closet” (Where Jesus told us to go to pray so as not to appear piously arrogant) with legal briefs arguing to God that a blowjob was not adultery, or even actual sex.  So we have some glimpse of how his mind works and priortizes things. Again: Self-gratification. His sensual pleasures, and appetites for them, seem to rank very high, and of course, recent photos of him show a man who is dissipated in that pursuit, and since I’m told that carnal pleasures do not leave permanent marks, and alcohol and drugs do, other appetites are also likely at play.

Of course, that’s today, 2021. Bill Clinton was destined to turn himself into a dissipated addict for whatever mixture of drugs, sex and paid flatterers cum back-massagers, mostly acquired after he left office.

The unasked question is: Has he ever tried to reform?

His greatest damage to America is not the legacy he earned but the legacy our generation bequeathed him, all because he seemed cool, and with the Iron Curtain down and the “Greed is Good” Gordon Gekko economy steaming along, we went along for the ride.

American morality really took a nosedive, 1992-2000, and the 2000 election of a Christian president didn’t really seem to revive it. (Of course, we now know why.) Since 2000, and the naked attempts on The Vote, I’ve never been convinced of any election since being fair, not even 2016, not that Donald Trump didn’t win, but that millions of illegal votes were cast for Hillary and were never “caught” or corrected.

Today, our new generations, who were at the oldest, in their 20s when Bill Clinton took office,  don’t even know what a national morality was like, or why it’s important to a people’s survival. And many of those go to church on Sunday.

I think God is still angry at us… more than the Clintons… not so much for electing Clinton twice, but for allowing the injuries he imposed on these next two generations, Gen-Xers, and Millennials, to go unabated, unpunished and un-avenged. Now Natural Law is involved…and you don’t really want to bring Her into it, for Her judgments are Final, with no appeal. Once Evil reaches plague proportions, only Lady Nature can deal with it.

Bill Clinton didn’t plan any of this. In fact, he’s totally unaware of it. But he’s one of Satan “useful idiots”, not one of Lenin’s.

As “useful idiots” go, the damage Bill Clinton has done to the glue that held the American culture together would be the equivalent of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg having stumbled across some strange scientific papers lining a birdcage they had purchased, then selling them to a book store for two dollars.

Saul Alinksy went out into the academic world specifically to cultivate useful idiots, never for a minute ever dreaming that one of those idiots he would tap out would marry just such a nuclear weapon just before he died. Who knew? In fifty lifetimes Alinksy could never have schemed a way to take a genuine self-loving satyr and cause his life of sex-addiction to be showcased in such a way as to mesmerize an entire society to ignore the damage that was being done to their country. Nor could Hillary Clinton ever allow herself to believe that her sole contribution to the destruction of the America soul was to be the fuse; the fuse of the Useful Idiot.

How small, Hillary.

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