My Kingdom for a Surrogate
There will be no G-File today for reasons that have entirely to do with travel, exhaustion and self-indulgence. But I do have a new column today on Obama’s inability to find a reliable surrogate and his hilarious reliance on Bill Clinton. It starts:
Watching Bill Clinton act as Barack Obama’s “No. 1 surrogate,” in the words of NPR, is as exquisitely painful as watching a runaway monkey with a paintball gun at a museum.
Most of the pundits have focused on Clinton’s motivations for refusing to read his lines from the White House script. That’s understandable given that Clinton is a one-man reality show whose diversity of motives makes the ladies of the Real Housewives franchise seem nun-like in their simplicity.
But asking “Why?” of Bill Clinton is a sucker’s game. Sure, he may give you an answer for why he did what he did, but any answer he gives you will be the verbal equivalent of an ice sculpture: impressive, but not expected to last long in the light of day. When he said that Mitt Romney is qualified to be president and had a “sterling business career,” he might as well have dropped the microphone and walked offstage, “Clinton out.”