‘Twas bitter cold/And Tina was sick at heart, to paraphrase the Bard. “All over the country,” she caviled in Newsweek last year from Hillary Clinton’s campaign trail,
(By “TV networks” can we doubt she means CNBC, the one that canned her?) So for this relief, she might say, much thanks: Mrs. Clinton, the woman whose presidency shoulda-coulda-woulda put paid to the “relentless youth culture of the early 21st century,” in which “if you are 50 and female, the novel that’s being written on your forehead every day is ‘Invisible Woman,'” seems at last to have found her liberation (and apparently Tina’s along with it) as secretary of state. As Miss Brown has now come to see it, Mrs. C’s deliverance arises not from her having been rendered irrelevant, as some very mean people have been suggesting, but rather from her “deep lack of insecurity,” and, more important, from the happy, if accidental, imperatives of her anatomy:
I’ll wager that alpha-dogness in the Situation Room is something Mrs. Clinton is not experiencing on a regular basis; she’s certainly not locked up with it all day, or even every day, as, when she is permitted to land on U.S. soil, it’s to the State Department she toddles off, not the White House. But never mind, we get the picture: Testosterone=bad; menopause=good. As for the alpha dogness of Mr. Hillary Clinton, well, that’s something I think I’ll leave to the female nature of Miss Brown’s imaginings.
