SIC TRANSIT GLORIA STEINEM ©

by Norman Liebmann

Warren G. Harding rendered a great service to the nation by not burdening it with a legacy. We expect no such benignity from Bill Clinton whose own legacy is now clear, an enduring pestilence of immorality, an ethical plague in place.

Conventional wisdom holds, Bill Clinton is "the women's president", the Harlequin paperback prexy, who will go down in history as The Great Romancipator, if history does not go down on him first. The fact is, ladies look to him, not for pleasure, but for relief. He is not their lover, their champion, nor their god, only their apparatus. He is not Prince Valiant, but Prince Vibrator, William Jefferson Dildo, and what he vibrates with is corruption. But that is a matter for later insertion. (We note peripherally, if depravity is hereditary, its symptoms were dormant during the interlude between Caligula and Clinton.)

The more celebrated feminists, preened and manicured, look so because honest work has never had a chance to mark them. If they have a goddess, her name is Convenience. They are lap dogs, pampered, coifed and ribboned, yet in the public arena, they cleave to the image of the poor little match girl, a victimized, pauperized, disenfranchised waif, cowering in a dirty alley, aborting herself with a button hook and a hand mirror.

Many handling the tillers of feminism are, in fact, snobs, officiously converting hors d'oeuvre perceptions of reality into standing pools of culture gunk. The rise of feminism (bitch power) has to some extent succeeded in making men exiles in their own country, wanderers with an unnamed sense of ill-ease, not unlike that experienced after having mistakenly blundered into the Ladies Room. These ladies seem not to find America much to their liking, and have decided the way to put everything right is for all males to lie down in the nude and have PAT SCHROEDER pass among them with a lawn-edger. The feminists' brave new world fantasy is an office party where male bosses are so fearful of lawsuits, female secretaries end up having to slap each other.

Feminism is highly devoted to the credo, behind every great man there's a woman telling him he's wrong. They know what irks and frazzles men, and vote accordingly. It is a reasonable speculation, Bill Clinton would not be president today it Joey Buttafuoco had decided to run.

Feminists have sought and swamped the policy-making level, and have spread through the media like a pox. The Law of Unintended Circumstances kicked in and gave rise to a new dirty-mindedness and alarming abandon; a smut-ocracy, which historians are already calling The BlowJob Administration.

Consider GLORIA STEINEM, a master cylinder in the chromed media engine. As editor of a ladies log called "Ms.", her most taxing function is to look at two pictures, point and say, "That one." Feminist editors do not dabble, they tamper, re-visiting their usual causes to distraction; rags, rouge, gender dissatisfaction, and minority whining, usually about "the injustices" of not being offered jobs they really don't want. One pines for that moment when ladies of this mentality were only manipulative.

The three "no evil" monkeys at their most insulated could not ignore transgression more effectively than the National Organization of Whatnots. Noting a battalion of women trespassed on by Bill Clinton, the only cry of protest they've managed is, "Next!" Adjusting their grip on a traditional franchise, it has now become a woman's prerogative not to change her mind. Despite the evidence, they have yielded to Clinton the cloak of their selective inattention. If a nine-year-old Chinese orphan girl were found chained, nude and beaten under Clinton's desk, Patricia Ireland would find it circumstantial, Gloria Steinem would arrange it as "consensual", and Charles Grodin would scold us, "the President's sex life is his own business." (Bubba's relentless fondness for children is on the record as unnatural and boring.) This exoneration is admittedly a payoff for his sympathy with "women's issues", although White House policies suggest the Clinton Administration finds femininity more desirable in men. Beyond that, if feminists have no differences Bill Clinton, it's because they realize, wisely, you can't argue with a sponge.

Slick magazines have long been the bibles of the trivial (a word to the wispy, so to speak.) La Steinem has taken wispiness to the next level, conveying thoughts in English preferably considered in French, the language of spoken ambience, plumbing the depths of the veneer, seeking to save the world in their spare time, Though they conjure in the arts and politics, their principal focus is on the groin as the repository of all that is significant (no less than Playboy.) As is the case with celebrity freak slick mags, such thought leaves no tracks and no product that can be categorized as food, clothing or shelter. Their perception of human existence is, at its most intense, cosmetic. Many of these self-proclaimed illuminati have never operated anything more mechanically challenging than a bureau drawer. The telephone is their tool of choice for filtering out, brushing off and "dishing." This is not trivial pursuit, but trivial perfection.

Feminists have condemned traditional civilities as patronizing. Their conspicuous achievement of "the movement" to date has been abolishing Ladies Day at the ballpark. John Donne would guide them, ask not for whom the car door is held open, it's not for thee.

If Gloria Steinem has an axe to grind, she will do well to grind it on her heart. It is the characteristic peevishness and contumacy of Ms. Steinem and her stamp that encourages men to think of women not only as "the opposite sex", but as the hopelessly opposite sex. Ms. Steinem frets and carps like someone who got up on the wrong side of her success. Feminist sanctimony obliges the comely Ms. Steinem to pretend she never got by on her looks, an advantage denied most feminists, and one they would kill for. As the late Dean Martin put it, "she certainly is a cunning stunt."

Ms. Steinem is an after-reflection of Woodstock, the Jurassic Park of the sixties, a cow pasture cavorted on by unwashed elves. They still maintain a kind of gamy chic, Cher by moonlight, but Baby Jane in the hard glare of day. Ms. Steinem is a closet of Emma Bovary petulance. She doesn't want to be "one of the boys", and she doesn't seem to be one of the girls. None of her troops has the courage to suggest she be either. The worst case scenario is, she is one of something we don't know about yet - and it's headed this way.

Here are a few egregious enablers of Bill Clinton, "liberated" at last from the traditional revulsion against perversion in high places, and allowing that criminal combine in the White House to dismantle the American Revolution:

SUSAN MacDOUGAL's experience in the "slammer" and association with Bill Clinton qualifies her uniquely to be a career conjugal visitor.

BARBARA BOXER, related to Clinton. Someone misinterpreted the Talmud, and concluded, while it's wrong to eat pork, it's okay to marry it.

BARBARA MIKULSKI is the default central casting choice for the role of The Sadistic Matron in any woman's prison movie.

DIANNE FEINSTEIN's sole regret is having entered the Senate too late to introduce legislation to disarm the defenders of the Alamo. Neither Feinstein nor her husband married well.

PATTY MURRAY is abusively plain and it is possible her support of Clinton is revenge taking on all men for their neglect of her.

CAROL MOSLEY BRAUN reported to have sponsored a guy (on the taxpayer's tab) on Congressional junkets, being unable to count on "getting lucky" at her destination.

MAXINE WATERS has evinced bad temper and contemptible manners from the day her passport photo attacked her.

JANET RENO was shown no compassion by Nature and deserves none.

MONICA LEWINSKY did what some girls in Hollywood do who really do need a job. Monica will be remembered for the deathless words, "Watch carefully, because I'm only going to do this 37 times."

Feminists, all.

To paraphrase Harry Truman, JUDGE SUSAN WEBBER WRIGHT knows as much about justice as a pig knows about Sunday. She ruled the Jones claim against Bill Clinton should be delayed because it would take too much of the President's time away from playing his favorite computer game "Virtual Gynecology." In a unanimous decision, the Supreme Court ruled, "Susie-baby, drop dead!"

By her defilement of the legal process, Judge Wright has ratified the corrupt reign of the Ceaucescus of Pennsylvania Avenue, and has given the lady with the scales a juridical hysterectomy without benefit of anesthesia. Astonishingly, she held that dropping one's pants and saying "kiss it" is not an outrage, but a technique, not sexual harassment, more a kind of acceptable soft-core rape. Her decision sanitized a moral leper and endorsed a White House that is just one damp towel short of an orgy.

Thanks to Judge Wright, Arkansas is again revealed as the natural habitat of whorehouse justice and cat box politics, Her judicial sophistry in the Jones v. Clinton matter endorses the reputation of Little Rock as a cross between a fleshpot and a landfill. By handing another victory to the pervert-in-chief, she ratcheted down civilization another notch and encouraged Bubba in his ongoing sodomization of the Republic. Indeed, her ruling occasioned in him such joy as has not been since Herod received the news, "The crucifixion went off without a hitch."

Here are some significant reasons why Judge Wright should have recused herself from the case:

Wright was Clinton's law student, and only God knows what she was asked to do to pass his course. It is not beyond imagining Professor Bubba would summon a female student to his classroom, whip out his diploma, and say. "Kiss it."

She ruled out Exhibit A, because she doesn't like "bent" evidence.

She refused to allow Monica Lewinsky to testify or gargle in court.

She invited her husband into chambers to kibitz the case.

She allowed Democrat ex-Senator David Pryor, a Clinton fetch-and-carry, to lobby her on behalf of Susan MacDougal, convicted felon and much-indicted accomplice in the piracy at the Madison Guaranty S & L (Switch and Loot.)

Paula Corbin Jones' case was not tainted, it was debauched by a Judge who learned the law from the defendant. Judge Wright has demonstrated herself biased and incompetent. Clearly, she should be removed from the bench, and after she lifts her ass off it, the bench should be burned.

No list of harridans is complete without the Leona Helmsly of the Ozarks, Hillary Rodham Clinton. Her smile is a biohazard and a narrowing of her eyes is enough to twist open the seacocks and sink the Good Ship Lollypop. Hillary Clinton raised ambition and spite to the level of national enterprise. She provokes contempt so she can use it to justify her raw ill will. By implanting her malice in a conscienceless lout, she vulgarized the Presidency and put her gangrenous imprimatur on the noblest political culture in history.

This is not a general indictment of women, which is invariably the feminists' first and always accusation against their critics. I love women enough to have married one. That having been said, I know nothing comfortable can come this way by criticizing the feminists, but their indulgence of Clinton has endangered us all.

***