Something's Burning in the Kitchen

The Pennsylvania Primary was yesterday and Hillary Clinton won big.

The Great Plotnik used to think the Democrats had put forward two excellent candidates, and either one would suffice. Yes, she may be an excellent role model for young women. Yes, she may have been treated unfairly when she was the favorite. Yes, in November, if Hillary wins, Plotnik will probably vote against the Republicans by voting for yet one more candidate he has come to despise.

But not with pleasure, not with hope, not with the idea that his vote, finally, might actually change something. Yes, she may be a better campaigner and even more competent than Obama as a nominee. Yes, Obama is a rookie and may be made out of paper. Yes, Clinton may have a better chance than he does to defeat the Republicans, who are avatars from the death star Xog.

And yet, there is John McCain in Selma, Alabama, telling the small, white crowd (in a black city) that he knows he's not going to get any votes down there, but it is time to apologize for racial hatred in that part of the world. And there is Hillary Clinton, smiling on a TV ad in Pennsylvania with Osama bin Laden in the background, using all the racial code words, whipping up class vindictiveness in a working class state. Win, Baby, Win. What else do you need to know?

As the New York Times, who endorsed her months ago and is now threatening to withdraw its endorsement, put it this morning:

"On the eve of this crucial primary, Mrs. Clinton became the first Democratic candidate to wave the bloody shirt of 9/11. A Clinton television ad — torn right from Karl Rove’s playbook — evoked the 1929 stock market crash, Pearl Harbor, the Cuban missile crisis, the cold war and the 9/11 attacks, complete with video of Osama bin Laden. “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen,” the narrator intoned."

That is correct. There are millions of people, not only kids but gray-heads like Plotnik, who have been clamoring to run into that kitchen, for the first time in their lives, to see if they might be able to make a difference, to unite behind a candidate whose ideals matched their own.

Mrs. Clinton makes us all brake to a stop at the door. Something smells in there. Something's burning.

So we'll see. In the meantime, congratulations, Mrs. Clinton. You go, girl.