"It's 3 a.m. Do You Know Where Your Campaign Is?"
So asks Mark Steyn in his latest column, on the death throes of Mrs. Bill Clinton's campaign.
Like every other column writer in America, I hate Steyn and hope the jihadists eventually track him down and, if nothing else, destroy his laptop. Because once Steyn writes about a topic, there is usually nothing left worth saying.
Jeepers, will all business during this Clinton administration be transacted at 3 a.m.? Is it some union-negotiated flex-time deal? "Home foreclosures mounting"? We'd better wake the president. There are now so many foreclosures the banks can no longer foreclose on everyone they need to foreclose on during normal banking hours. "The First National Bank of Dead Skunk, Maine, has begun issuing midnight foreclosure notices, Madam President."
"OK, nuke 'em."
"Er, well, maybe this can wait till the regular afternoon meeting."
It's 3 a.m., and your children are safe and asleep. But there's a phone ringing in the White House. And ringing and ringing and ringing. Kim Jong-il No Dong missiles are heading for every major West Coast city, but the president's not picking up because at 2:57 a.m. the Secretary for Soccer Moms called to alert her to the growing crisis caused by the lack of federally mandated children's bicycling helmets.
When the powder keg goes up, who do you want in the White House? Hillary Rodham Clinton, whose customized MCI Friends & Family & European Foreign Ministers & Overseas Dictators plan allows her to receive unlimited incoming calls between 2 a.m. and 4 a.m.? Or John McCain, who'd bawl out the White House operator for waking him up to take a call from the Director of the Federal Bike Path Agency?
I know which one I want....