I had come to suspect that Hillary Clinton was betraying us. That she was in fact a foreign agent, in service of a rival power.
And those poor fools who think Barack Obama was born in Kenya? It’s a red herring! Why couldn’t they see that? Clinton herself was probably behind it, a brilliant ploy to throw us off her tracks. It was all part of her master plan.
No doubt she had sandbagged the 2008 primary, which was obviously hers for the taking. Come on now. Do you really think that some skinny, inexperienced black kid could beat her if she didn’t let him?
But why did she do it? Wouldn’t a foreign agent like Hillary Clinton be in a position to destroy America from the inside after achieving the presidency? Maybe.
Maybe.
But she’s smarter than that.
By deftly placing her stooge Obama in the White House, the controversy of his foreign birth, which she herself had manufactured, would soak up the spotlight. And that would free her to go about her nefarious business of taking down America as she trotted the globe, hatching her evil scheme with various world leaders.
It was diabolical. It was brilliant. And the evidence seemed so convincing. After all, “Barack Obama” just isn’t an American sounding name. And, you know, there’s that whole thing about him not being white.
Well, his mother was white, and he was largely raised by white people, but they were just a sleeper cell. That’s all you need to know, really. The best conspiracies are the simplest ones, and the rest of that story just kind of writes itself.
And we all bought it, fools that we were. God-fearing, hard-working, America-loving fools. But damn us all to hell, I thought. Clinton was the rogue all along. And I had stumbled upon the evidence by chance, while doing something that rarely yields any new information: reading.
I had found the clues in an article that Secretary of State Hilary Clinton published in the July 18 issue of New Statesman magazine. Of course it was full of the usual niceties about the United States being the world’s most important country, and how it should continue to lead, and look out primarily for its own interests while doing so. The kind of modest, clear-eyed vision we expect our leaders to advocate.
But there was something insidious lurking amid all those pretty words: British spellings.
Some Americans, either in a head scratching show of Anglophilia or in some vain effort to sound erudite, have been known to adopt British airs. Perhaps spelling it theatre implies you attend it regularly, my good man. And no doubt, the items to be perused in a catalogue are far superior to those found in any mere catalog. But not all British forms make it to our shores. Even the most fawning and insecure Americans can’t abide certain spellings.
Some British words just look dumb.
The only neighbour Americans have are the Queen-worshiping Canadians living on the other side of the lawn hedge that runs along the 49th parallel. Nor do we think British jewellry is marvellous, even if the maker is quite skilful. And God help us should any blessed American mother ever carry a foetus to term. Third sign of the apocalypse if you ask me. Though I suppose it acceptable for British mummies.
So imagine my horror when I came across some distinctly British spellings in Secretary of State, or should I say Madame Foreign Secretary Clinton’s New Statesman article.
Apparently, President Obama has revitalised our foreign policy.
You don’t say? But wait. That’s not all.
We must also continue to prioritise our agenda and recognise important allies. And, if you can believe it, it appears we must mobilise.
Mobilise for what, exactly, I cannot say. Probably four o’clock tea, or maybe a croquet match followed by scones and Pimm’s cups.
The implications of all this seemed quite serious. Who was MFS Clinton rooting for in the upcoming summer Olympics, I wondered. Had she played a behind the scenes role in getting the games to London, a city I now suspected she knew all to well? And was she silently jinxing Michael Phelps by wearing a Union Jack Speedo `neath her famous pant suits whenever he entered the pool?
What would we tell our children? Bad enough that Phelps wouldn’t be taking home precious, precious gold every time his graceful, orangutan-like arms stroked the water. The little darlings would already be in tears, vainly clutching the approved Disney product of their choice, hoping that would make it all better. Dare we grind their childish innocence further into the ground by informing them that the traitorous Hillary Clinton was behind it all?
I was awash in these and other vital questions when it suddenly dawned on me: Good god, man! This is more serious and complicated than it first appears.
Was it possible that I had been mesmerized to the point of befuddlement by the subtle intricacies of international cloak and dagger diplomacy? Could Rodham actually be on our side after all? Indeed, I slowly began to realize she wasn’t the culprit. Au contraire, Secretary Clinton had been victimized by those insidious Brits. How so?
Are you ready for this?
New Statesman is a British journal.
Insert knowing glance and slow nod here.
Those bastards. Those boiled tomato-eating, monarchy-loving bastards! They went in there and changed all her z’s to s’s. Son of a . . . They did that to her.
No. They did that to us.
They took her beautiful American words and made them stinky with limey rot. And what beautiful words they were.
Secretary Clinton made us proud. She told them all that it is “American economic, military and diplomatic leadership, which has underwritten global peace and prosperity for decades.”
That’s right. Our bombs make peace. And don’t you forget it.
Her article made plain that “American leadership is so exceptional” and that these great United States actually have “no alternative” but to lead the world to prosperity. In fact, it’s “required” of us, not only because it’s for the “greater good,” but because, well, we’re just richer and bigger bad asses than everyone else, and we want it to stay that way. I mean, other countries can help, even new kids on the block like China, India, and Brazil. But really. It’s all about us.
Wave that flag, Secretary Clinton. And do it proudly. Because no country has used its diplomacy and military so well during the last half-century as has the United States. Technically, I’m gonna call Vietnam a draw, but it did spawn a lot of great movies and books, so that kinda makes it a win. Seriously, have you seen The Deer Hunter? Plus we totally won those under card bouts in Cambodia and Laos. And these two recent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have been really okay, sorta, maybe. You put that all together and you’ve got three major wars lasting more than thirty years in aggregate, with millions of dead people. That’s leadership.
And don’t forget Granada. Don’t ever forget Granada. Totally kicked ass on that one. Oh, and Panama was really good too.
Of course leadership isn’t just about what you do. It’s also about what you don’t do. Like when Clinton’s husband Bill was the main man, and he decided to do nothing about Rwanda while 800,000 people were slaughtered in the world’s worst genocide since World War II. Intervening just wasn’t in our national interest. It wouldn’t have helped us make money or cement our control.
You gotta prioritize. Can’t get all starry eyed just because you’re the richest, baddest thing around.
These are our Americans values, and Secretary Clinton expressed them with beautiful American words. But those heartless pigs at New Statesman made some of those words British. And in so doing, they almost drew us down a dark conspiratorial path, where we would have foolishly thought Hillary Clinton isn’t one of us, when it might actually be Barack Obama after all who isn’t from here.
Is that sorted out yet, or is Joe Arpaio still working on it?
Either way, the important thing is we now know we can trust Rodham. She’s on our side, and as a great American once said: We won’t get fooled again.
That’s Bush, not Townshend. Please.
And indeed, it’s time for us to lead. We have a responsibility. Global peace and prosperity are depending on us. And if you’re going to lead, you need to let people know you’re serious about it. You can’t let them mock you.
In other words, we need to show those Brits that no one shames the U.S. and gets away with it. They can mispronounce aluminum all they want. But so help me God, you need to recogniZe that the United States is not to be trifled with. And you most certainly do not insult a Clinton.
That’s something no American will abide. Not even The Dude.
We need to defend Clinton’s honor, and we should do it by remaining true to her vision. I think this calls for war. No doubt about it. It’s time to lead, as in lock n load.
Not only that, but it’s also the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812, the last time we showed the Brits what we’re all about. And if you ask me, we’re a good hundred years overdue. Sure, they’ve been on our side ever since, but don’t think they don’t resent us for it. I’m tellin’ ya, every now and then you gotta knock these sonsabitches around a little bit, remind `em who’s boss.
It sure as fuck ain’t France.
Now, I realize this might be a hard sell. There are all sorts a problems these days, what with the economy and all the rest of it. Plus, some Americans won’t trust Obama with this one, and it’s kinda hard to blame them. Honestly, so far he’s only showed that he can end a war or continue an ongoing one, not actually start a new one. Personally, I think it’s a presidential right of passage, but not everyone agrees. So Operation Union Jerk might not fly.
But it’s okay. I have a plan B.
If we can’t punish the Brits militarily for their savage and malicious mangling of Secretary Clinton’s prose, then we can hurt them economically. That’s how leadership works: Shoot first, charge interest later. So it’s time for an embargo. And yes, this is gonna hurt us almost as much as it hurts them, but we have to make sacrifices if we want to show them we’re serious, and restore honor to the Clinton name. We need to implement an effective, targeted boycott of U.K. products.
No more imported British dramas.
No more Mystery! with their smart, sexy detectives. No more Dr. Who, thinking it’s in the same league as Star Trek. No more Masterpiece Theater. I don’t care if they spell it right. And, goddamn it, absolutely no more Downton Abbey.
We can let Game of Thrones slide since the guy who wrote the books and the show’s best actor are both American, but we have to put up a protective tariff to make sure HBO goes back to producing its most violent and sexual shows here in America. And we should probably get a petition going to make The Daily Show fire that one English guy.
Aye, it’s mostly shite anyway.