Tuesday, November 1, 2016

"You want a witch hunt? Come chase me through the woods," by Hillary Clinton

(Note: Conspiracy Hillary is the Hillary who controls the weather and manipulates elections and currency markets. She appears whenever two right-wingers gather in her name. She is everywhere, and it's even possible that she's real.)

Yes, it's a witch hunt. It's been a witch hunt since the early 1990s, since I said that thing about how I wouldn't stay home and bake cookies, and then suddenly a nation of halfwit cable carnies decided I must be secretly controlling every evil thing in the country. It's obvious, right? I'm running against a pathologically dishonest billionaire who won't release his taxes or disclose his connections to foreign governments, while Vladimir Putin tries to throw the election for him... but people say I'm the one who spooks them. A case of mass hysteria. And I am completely aware of what that word really means.

Powerful women just wig people out. And they must be punished, so no one follows their example.

I'm not complaining though. Not at all. I like witch hunts, actually. My favorite is that story about the three kids who go into the woods with a camera and never come out. We're going to play it like that. Plenty of shadows, of branches crackling... New Gingrich vanishing from sight, and Paul Ryan getting a bag of his teeth.

I think Kellyanne Conway will give a tearful flashlight confession, saying it was all her fault. She deserves a speaking role. And then she'll be the one to find Trump himself.

Standing quietly in the corner. Forever.

Not the witch hunt you had in mind? Perhaps you wanted someone more docile, a doe-eyed Hester to stand in the dock and take it. Handle the accusations with quiet stoicism, so she could be exonerated after her safe and commendable death. The demand from people like you to people like me has always been the same: If you will not be the victim you must play the villain. And very, very few people are good at playing that role and by those rules. Which is, of course, the point.

But honey, you haven't considered me yet.

Honey, you should see me in black.

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