The monstrous sun rises over the tableau, another da capo round of the daily quotidian’s diurnal recurrence. Hilari pauses her work of harvesting to savour a morsel of the dawn. Amor fati, she grumbles, of the eternal recurrence. She returns to the harvest.
Bim Kerbler is a Junior Associate in the Office of Official Optimism, Division “C” (Quotations) Unit 42 (Inspiration) sub-sector twenty-nine (Cats). His particular area of assumed expertise is words.
AS EARLY AS 1993, I’ve thought Bill Clinton is a despicable human being.
Self-absorbed, manipulative, dishonest, vain, and driven by animal appetites and ego.
I remember him going out for a run, during his re-election campaign, and veering mid-way into a McDonald’s.
That’s Bill Clinton—a narcissistic boy-man who’s never met an intern or Big Mac he could resist.
Imagine having the power of an American President, and squandering it on Oval Office hand-jobs. Then, bombing Sudan to distract the country from your indiscretions.
The Clintons ate people who thought they were friends. Ate them and threw the bones to the wolves.
And for those who want to talk about Bill’s charity work—notice how he splashes his name in big bright letters over everything with which he’s associated.
THE WILLIAM JEFFERSON CLINTON SUCH-AND-SUCH
So…I thoroughly enjoyed this Daily News article, headlined