The Tragic Romance of Barack and Hillary
Saturday, 23 August 2008
Platforms afire! Obama gets over the Hill, goes with Joe.
The seed of partnership was planted in our minds by nameless concensus farmers by the fall of 2006, and was fertilized with intimacy in the early spring of 2007. While the seed sprouted quickly, the sapling romance wouldn’t really blossom until the debates. Standing side-by-side in the warm, nightly glow of the 5,000 watt stage lights, flanked by a small coppice of wooden also-rans, the prima duo stole the show. The debates were criticized for this stage-hogging but the press’s fiddle played sweet notes for the couple and silence for the rest. This couple was destined to be – a change of America’s face, by changing the sex and color of its leader’s faces.
It wasn’t immediate, either. The couple followed the classic adventure storyline, two opposites who were stranded in a sea of publicity by fate. They shared mutual irritations.
One by one, those remaining were cut down or atrophied, unable to sustain themselves from the offal of this hackneyed romance or starved for the limelight. They withered into the darkness with this poignant epitaph: “Inaudible“. If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, it’s probably because they were out following Barack and Hillary.
The two were finally alone, basking in the warmth of media approval. They snuggled. They whispered. She stroked him, he stroked her. Some of us gagged. The dream ticket was born, and the once fiery romance blazed into shotgun media matrimony. These two would rule the world, but who would be head of the White House?
Barack and Hillary would leave that question up to the viewer. The fiddler kept changing the tune so that each could take the lead on that great slippery dance floor that tops the political platform. Though Hillary Clinton thought she could dance, the judges felt differently, and would not give in to her appeal. The commonlaw marriage was assumed and therefore official. Man takes wife in six rounds.
They honeymooned at the Clinton compound, where Barack first saw Hillary naked, well out of the view of peeping Tom Brokaws. The Observatory believes that Barack Obama witnessed something so horrid – so unspeakable – below the fortified layers of polyester that he Reno’ed her in a New York minute. It is our best guess that she tried to play dominitrix, but he wanted someone more submissive to his desires. For him, political romance is not a shared dictatorship; rather, it is give and take, with one person – namely him – taking the lead. On that day, We at the Metaphor Observatory concluded that the divorce proceedings began.
On her divorce claim form, Hillary wanted the House, twenty million dollars and 18 million votes while Barack would get the consolation of a quiet bachelor apartment and a clean slate. Barack’s claim form comprised of a mere, monosyllabic “Whew!”, leaving the entire decision to the judges. Though the divorce itself became final, the full details of the settlement remain unknown.
The two star-crossed ex-lovers still see each other from time to time. He sees her on Court TV, she sees him when leaving flaming brown paper bags on his political doorstep. The experience seems to have been even more enlightening to him than those 5,000watt lightbulbs he once shared with her. On the rebound, he decided to start his next romance with a male partner, the more submissive Senator Joe Biden. According to the fiddler, it’s a match made in November heaven, no matter what Joe once said about Barack while standing side-by-side under the limelight.
No. 1 — March 5th, 2009 at 4:13 am
Beautiful use of metaphors.