One huge upside of our peaceful transfer of power is the Democrats have way more televised hearings than the Republicans. Sometimes it's in spite of themselves, like the impeachment. Every time it's a festival of body language, a confluence of personalities so borderline, egos so unbounded they cannnot be contained within a single human body. A good congressional hearing emits tsunomic waves of perfumed self-importance that can be sensed right through the TV screen three timezones away. It is an art form as subtle as Noh, a sport as brutal as Muy Thai. And they are playing for all the marbles.
I'm watching Mrs. Clinton's confirmation hearing. Chelsea's there, sitting in the row behind her mom. John Kerry made a point of acknowledging her. Miss Clinton got a polite and loyal round of applause, which Sen. Schumer immediately tried to claim as his own. Now, Mom is wearing a sensible brown suit. Miss Chelsea's got on a purple sleeveless number, in DC in January. Her hair is worn loose and she upstages the hell out of her mother. Delish.
Sen. Kerry said since Chel's dad served as an intern on the FRC, they would be happy to make Chelsea an 'intern for a day' and he personally invited her up on the dias after the hearing so she could sit in the chairs and take in the view. Because our government is their toy.
About Me
- A.G. Clifton
- Miss Clifton was born in the back seat of a Greyhound bus rolling down Highway 21. The only child of itinerant grifters, she supplemented her family's meager income through faking food poisoning and stepping in front of cars. Later in life she discovered a talent for Faith healing. She toured the continent healing people named Faith. Along the way she met and married her son's father, but sadly, the two parted ways after she discovered what he actually meant by "animal husbandry." Miss Clifton lives in an abandoned railroad shed on the outskirts of town where she pursues her life's work of constructing the world's largest ball of aluminum foil. Donations cheerfully accepted.