As most people here know, I can’t stomach Donald Trump.
I consider him to be the biggest fraud of all the frauds. I find his refrains of “Lyin’ Ted” and “Crooked Hillary” downright ironic, because I’m pretty sure no one in this election lies quite as often, and is nearly as crooked, as Donald Trump. Trust me: As a guy who’s devoting his days to researching the old USFL, few Americans touch Donald Trump for pure bullshit power.
That being said, Hillary Clinton presents Trump with something of an election gift. And it’s not because of e-mails. And it’s not because of Libya. And it’s not because of Monica.
Nope, it’s because of the image above.
This thing popped up on my Facebook page today, as a small ad. Right now, it’s probably popping up on hundreds of thousands of Facebook pages. And, hey, ads are ads, right? No biggie. But when you click on it, you’re directed to this page …
OK, so they wanna add you to the mailing list. I guess that’s fine, if not annoying. But when you type in your e-mail address and zip, you’re directed to this page …
But, truly, that’s not my issue here. What bothers me (irks me, really) is that this is your typical paint-by-number political bullshit response. Somewhere in Hillary Clinton’s office in Someplace, America, an intern or aide or someone said, “You know what! Let’s capitalize on Trump’s stupid comment and sell “Woman Cards.” They know, because many of us are idiots, it’ll work, and folks will respond, and money will flow. Meanwhile, the so-called “offense” comments (which truly are offensive) offended no one affiliated with Hillary Clinton. Why? Because they’re absolute fundraising gold. The more Trump spews nonsense, the more Woman Cards Hillary peddles. Blah, blah.
And here’s the problem: Trump, for all his awfulness, doesn’t really play the part. Stuff like the Woman’s Card just makes Hillary look like your typical robot politician—which she sorta is. Trump appears to speak off the cuff, inappropriately, offensively … and all Hillary Clinton can do is respond as a political figure. “I am deeply offended by …”—when she’s, truly, not even remotely offended by anything he says. Because it’s all just a game. He knows it. She knows it. We all know it.