Several cold, calculating and contradictory thoughts on this farce of an election have been assaulting my poor brain. It took two completely unconnected, random events—a recollection of Sean Connery and the sad news about George Carlin’s passing—to get those thoughts to stop bouncing and snap into sense.

George Carlin was not just a counterculture phenom, but a lover of language and truth. He loathed weighty jargon that obscured the truth of a thing. George was furious that the condition known as “shell shock” in WWI had its name watered down and down until it was known as post-traumatic stress disorder. “The pain is completely buried under jargon. Post-traumatic stress disorder. I’ll bet you if we’d of still been calling it shell shock, some of those Viet Nam veterans might have gotten the attention they needed at the time,” he said.As for bigotry, George was equally bold. “You can’t be afraid of words that speak the truth, even if it’s an unpleasant truth, like the fact that there’s a bigot and a racist in every living room on every street corner in this country.” It was his way of demanding that we face the fact that racists exist.

So, in honor of George Carlin and his raw truths, I thought I’d face and share a few of my own:

Truth #1 Barack Obama is not my friend
He’s bad news, from his façade as a ‘transformational’ leader while engaging in old-style political shenanigans to his deft use of sexism against Hillary…from his own sexist behavior to his not-so-stealth takeover of the DNC to his shameful, shameful support of a FISA compromise that flips the bird to the Fourth Amendment (he gets bonus double shame points for someone who claims to be a constitutional scholar). That’s hardly news to us hireheels gals and sugardaddies. And his followers, who blithely ignore any evidence that their dear leader is less than admirable, frighten me even more. People in that kind of enraptured state do bad, bad things because they’re convinced it’s for a special/holy/moral reason. Please, angels, save us from the Obots!

Truth # John McCain is not my friend, either
I say this as someone who really wants to show the DNC that they’ve taken us for granted for the last time. But the maverick stuff is a myth. I can’t ignore hiscaving to the right wing on my bodily autonomy and birth control. Or his record on FISA. Or his painful lack of knowledge of the Constitution. Or his contempt for the Supreme Court when it upholds said Constitution. And especially his caving on torture. I love someone who will be deployed again if McCain wins the White House, so I care a lot about this one. That the nation’s most famous POW would make such a show of protecting the Geneva Conventions and then let the guy whose campaign started the “McCain fathered a colored daughter” rumors in the 2000 campaign define what constitutes torture…well, let’s just say Halliburton has the contract to build a special circle in Hell just for that. (He’s also known on Capitol Hill for his explosive, irrational temper. Imagine the crazy old bastard from your childhood neighborhood with nuclear launch codes. Now hand me another mojito to calm my nerves.)

Of course, the devil I know may be better than the devil I don’t, given that we actually have VOTES from McCain to study instead of cryptic cyphers and “present” votes from Obama. However, it still stinks like expired drugstore perfume that these are our choices. This is where Sean Connery comes in. Remember Sean as the sage beat cop Jimmy Malone in The Untouchables? His advice to Eliot Ness was very relevant to us PUMAs:

What are you prepared to do?

What are we prepared to do to improve the Sophie’s Choice we face in November? What are we prepared to do to stop the enraptured Obots from becoming our new stormtroopers if their leader gets the White House? What are we prepared to do to keep Obama from being George W. Bush with a D after his name? What are we prepared to do if McCain becomes president and doesn’t give a crap about us, either?

I’ll tell you what we do. We fight. Every single day. We remember what brought us together and we apply it, 365 days a year. We pester our congressmen and congresswomen with calls and emails till their staffers know our addresses better than their own. We convince them to honor their duty to uphold, protect and defend the Constitution from all enemies, foreign and domestic, lest they lose their seats when we run against them. We haunt our senators to make sure they’ll block any misogynist or corporate-whore judges because they’re more afraid of our wrath than whatever the Washington elites say. We become a force of nature.

Of course, that means we have to arrange our lives so that we can read the news regularly. Post to blogs. Keep ourselves informed about what’s really happening and not just what the blow-dried bobbleheads want us to know. (Never trust a man who uses more hairspray than you do.) Devote time and energy and effort to fighting tooth and nail for our country. That’s a tall order for most of us, who have enough trouble finding time to clean the kitchen, never mind hunt for real news. But if you’re serious, really serious, about making this big a stand, it’s necessary. George Carlin spoke uncomfortable truths. Sean Connery’s Jimmy Malone understood the cost of a blood oath in a deadly battle. And both of them inspire me to ask you: What are you prepared to do?

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Now that we’ve had a few days to recover from our devastation, I think it’s time for a little cold, calculating thinking among those of us who hang out at the HireHeels Boutique and our sisters across the nation. Consider this:

1.) Politics is about the aquisition and use of power: The candidates we admire use power for the good of us all–to protect us from enemies foreign and domestic, to build an economy that lets us all earn our way to fiscal health and dignity, to help those who can’t help themselves. But the game of politics is about getting and using power. Those who fail to recognize that lose both power and elections. No power in the game, no power to help the people you want to help.

2.) Democrats need us to win in November: That makes us powerful. Obama and his true believers may be dissing us right now, but like it or not, they won’t win in November without us – PERIOD!

Keeping in mind those two premises, my question to all of us is: What do we really want? And what does Hillary want? (Besides a month at canyon ranch.)

We can’t read Hillary’s mind, but we can try to figure out our own. It’s not easy, with so much good, justified (misogynistic) reason to be angry. But in my exprience, this is exactly the time for us to pause and decide exactly what we want to get in exchange for our power. Talk about every possible action, even the ones that make us retch like the times we had too many Cosmos on empty stomachs. Play devil’s advocate with ourselves, to make sure we have examined every dark little corner of our strategy. (Something that Mark Penn SHOULD have done for the gadzillions he was earning…but I digress.) Do we want to see Hillary nominated for POTUS? VPOTUS? The promise of a cabinet post, seat on the Supreme Court? Or do we play hard-hard-hardball on Hillary’s agenda to get it adopted?

Just think about Denver (and the potential of our Million Woman March). If we’re organized and all singing that same 70′s “I Am Woman” tune, how frightening would that be to the DNC elders who were so quick to diss us. A bunch of brightly-dressed, focused, pissed-off women who have learned how to use their power? My OPI-polished toes are tingling at the very thought!

The Minx agrees that Hillary should go ahead and “suspend” her campaign right now. Once she’s no longer the target of all that media misogyny and hostility, why, Mr. Wonderful can have the whole glaring spotlight to himself.

Perhaps the Precious Pied Piper of droonlin’ dems might not do so well without Hillary deflecting the fire. Perhaps she’ll be bathed in angelic light as the convention draws near, while she still has all her unreleased delegates in her purse. Perhaps Precious
will implode. Whatever happens, the Dems still need what Hillary and her supporters (especially the gals) bring to the game. We’d better know exactly what to ask for when they come a’crawlin’ like a cheating spouse trying to settle the divorce before the mistress dumps him. Whichever way YOU go – make sure you answer: What do you want for your power?

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The Minx has been conspicuously absent from hireheels recently. The reasons for my absences can all be traced back to “health-scare” concerns. We’re talking one hellish week fighting a difficult chronic pain condition, one nagging bout of the death-cough that already cost me one cracked rib this year and nearly dislocated my appendix, and one dear family member requiring surgery (and now home safely, thank you). The kind of stuff you can live through, but boy, does it suck you dry. (It sucks you even dryer when your health care coverage is inadequate, vulnerable or absent.)

I’m one of the lucky ones. I have a good health care plan and I finally have a specialist who’s helped me get a handle on a truly demonic pain situation. But all that could go *poof!* if I lost my job. I wouldn’t be able to afford COBRA. If the mandatory plans here in Massachusetts didn’t cover my meds, I’d probably be dead inside a month, maybe two. It’s scary to think you’re one unfortunate personality conflict at work away from the grave. Go ahead and laugh that I’m being overly dramatic, but others with severe chronic pain or serious health issues will tell you how challenging it is with decent health coverage. Without it, you’re too sick to work, too sick to keep up your copays, but not sick enough to qualify for disability (which won’t cover your living expenses, never mind your medical expenses). It’s a toss-up as to whether your medical disorder or the results of lack of coverage will kill you first. That’s what lurks in the depths of my fears every day.

Meanwhile, the boogeyman doesn’t think reaching for universal coverage for all Americans is a good fight. Hillary does. So do I. My life may one day depend on it. How dare he–how f***ing dare he–decide that my life isn’t worth the political fight. Maybe I should call him the next time I can’t pick myself up off the floor in the local hospital. Or if some ER doc decides that I’m just an addict looking for a fix and kicks me out when I’m in the worst pain of my life. Or when some half-assed private coverage decides that it can capitate the drugs that rescue me, or deny me coverage for the first drug regimen ever that actually keeps me functioning well most of the time without terrible side effects. Silly me, but I like being a productive citizen, something I can continue to be with proper health care and a way to pay for it.

Thanks, Hillary. You haven’t given up fighting for my life. It’s why I’m still fighting for yours.

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So maybe you haven’t heard this latest kerfluffle. Sen. Barack Obama, while touring a factory, called a woman “sweetie” and brushed off her questions about the fate of the workers there. Trouble is, she’s a local television reporter. And there were cameras everywhere.

Sure, people get tired on the campaign trail and get sloppy with their language. He apparently called the reporter and left her a voicemail with a pretty decent apology, too. But this isn’t the first time he’s addressed an adult woman as “sweetie” on the campaign trail. And I’m angry about it, regardless of how silly people might think it is for me to feel that way.

I’m angry because he called a woman he didn’t know by a diminutive nickname in a tone that sounded very condescending to me. “Diminutive,” according to my handy pocket dictionary, means “indicating small size and sometimes the state or quality of being lovable, pitiable, or contemptible.” He diminished a woman,  a professional woman he didn’t know, in a professional setting where she had every right to be respected. In other words, he put her in her place.

Lest anyone think I’m some humorless dried-up old hag, I work in a male-dominated industry where I have to roll with the punches every day. I work with white-collar, blue-collar, pink-collar folks from everywhere. I have developed an extraordinarily high threshold for sexist behavior and outrageous comments. Everyone I work with knows I’m the cool one, the one who can take the ribbing and give it right back without being nasty or humorless. That’s one of the ways I’ve developed solid, loyal relationships up, down and across my organization. People with whom I share earned mutual respect can even call me me nearly any damn name they want to. But nobody, and I mean nobody, better diminish me as a professional, ever. I worked too hard, performed too well, and swallowed too much crap to let anyone pat me on the head and treat me as a child who needs to sit quietly while the grown-ups talk.

Just think: If Hillary Clinton had called an adult man of color “boy” on the campaign trail, she’d rightfully be excoriated for it. But Mr. Smooth can call a reporter– who was actually performing her job of asking the tough questions on behalf of the voters –”sweetie,” and I’ll bet the cable boys are fawning all over him again. Remember the adage about dating a man that says if he’s nice to you but mean to the waitress, he’s not a nice guy? Obama just dissed the waitress. He’s telling you who he is. Pay attention!

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With all of the pronouncements from on-high by the likes of (well, they know who they are), plenty of us hillary supporters have been turning to our ben & jerry’s for comfort this week. It seems like all is lost.

except it’s not.

Check out this analysis at Corrente Wire.

Short version:
West Virginia and Kentucky bear striking demographic resemblances to key swing state congressional districts that went big-big-big for hillary (like in the 30$-45% range). Two Hillary blowouts in states that are most like the areas where she’s already had blowouts puts her in a strong position to continue. But only if we counter the major morale-sucking operation and fight back. Write letters to the editor. Phone bank. Blog. Donate. Shove our refusal to be propaganda-ed out of the race right back in their faces and show them the fat lady ain’t sung yet.

Don’t let the multimillionaire pundits who pull opinions out of their…Gucci loafers…tell you to take your ball and go home like a good little girl. The last guy who told me that got a Doc Marten somewhere he won’t soon forget. Now’s the time for us to lace up our big-girl booties and stat kicking butt for our candidate.

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I couldn’t be in PA with the rest of the Hire Heels gang, but my travel embargo meant that as soon as the polls closed, I could start following The High Media Overlords–who believe in their own importance even more than a bunch of Vogue editors declaring that toe cleavage is dead, dead, dead. So many of the media overlords declared Hil dead, dead, dead, but she still beat a guy who outspent her 3 to 1.

Even ultra-conservative Pat Buchanan agreed with me last night on MSNBC. Despite Obama’s huge money advantage, he said, he can’t close the deal. (Pat Buchanan and I agreed on something. That’s weird. That’s “Bigfoot is my baby-daddy” weird.) This morning, MSNBC’s Joe Scarborough was beaming that his “girlfriend” won last night while Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing” played at the beginning of the show.

That truth, however, hasn’t convinced several overlords to stop calling for Hil’s head on a platter. A New York Times editorial entitled “The Low Road to Victory” says that she’s the one responsible for the negativity in the race and should drop out–this from the newspaper that ENDORSED her before! It’s too bad they didn’t read their own damn paper. A few pages earlier, a news analysis in the N.Y. Times said: “Despite a huge investment of time and money by Mr. Obama and pressure on Mrs. Clinton by the party establishment to consider folding her campaign, she won her third big state in a row. Mrs. Clinton showed again that she is a tenacious campaigner with an ability to connect with the blue-collar voters Mr. Obama has found elusive and who could be critical to a Democratic victory in November.”

The High Media Overlords can polish the halo they’ve created for Obama all they want, but they can’t obscure the truth. Barack Obama had lots of big advantages, but he couldn’t close the deal in Pennsylvania. Hillary Clinton was on the ropes and way behind in money, but still won by double digits. It’s like the old saying about Ginger Rogers: she did everything Fred Astaire did, but she did it backwards and in high heels. Hil proved that heels are tougher than halos.

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So, Sen. Obama’s recent comments during a San Francisco fundraiser about small-town voters have stirred up a controversy. For me, the story isn’t about his supposed elitism. It’s not about whether small-town voters are bitter or not. It’s not about whether he’s being misinterpreted (but I think his condescension peeked out when he wasn’t looking). It’s not about Sen. Clinton’s response (but I’m thrilled she’s fighting back like a pro). It’s not even about the pundits falling all over themselves about What It All Means–as if any one of these clowns would recognize a clue if it kicked them in their thick heads wearing golf spikes.

The truth of the matter, in my dainty little opinion, is that this is why we have elections, not coronations. Sometimes our favorite candidates wear halos; sometimes they don’t. They might utter the most uplifting, insightful, inspiring words one day, put you to sleep the next, and suffer a massive case of boot-in-mouth the third.

Imagine two pairs of the most perfect black pumps you ever saw, but you can afford only one. Whichever one you take home will be the staple of your wardrobe for years. There are differences in how they’re shaped, how they feel, how they fit. Now imagine that you could take an extended test-walk in each pair–not just back and forth in the overpriced boutique, but for a long weekend. Walk around the city. Run up and down subway stairs and shopping malls. Go to meetings. Go out on the town. A long weekend in those faboo pumps would tell you a lot more about how they’ll fit your feet, your wardrobe and your life than that stroll along the boutique carpet ever will.

Primary season is the political equivalent of taking those Manolos home for that long weekend test-hike. The ones that make you fall in shoe-lust in the store aren’t necessarily the ones you long to blow your bonus on once you’ve wiggled your toes in them for a while.

I’m a Hil-girl for several reasons, but chief among them is the amount of time she’s logged in the limelight–and the crosshairs. She’s been through boot-in-mouth moments, halo moments, and everything in between. Hil has faced the most hateful, organized and even delusional opposition in modern political history, yet she built her own reputation in the Senate and remains the first truly viable female candidate for U.S. president. A woman who can face that kind of attack, pull herself up from every misstep or setback, and still toss back a boilermaker with the boys? That’s my candidate.

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So Hillary finally canned the "strategist" who screwed up her campaign. Good for her. Hey, we’ve all hung onto screw-up friends, significant others, even employees far longer than we should have.  I won’t go into tons of inside baseball on the subject, other than to say good riddance.

But you know what makes me want to put a stiletto through someone’s forehead? A well-known progressive blogger using castration language on this story A guy named Josh Marshall who runs a (usually) kick-ass political blog called Talking Points Memo titles his story, "Full Firing? Or just gelded?"

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No matter how inspiring I find Senator Obama, I still support Senator Clinton for the nomination. Why? Because of a few lessons I’ve learned from office politics. Kick up your heels if you recognize these scenarios.

Lesson 1: Real-Life Experience Matters More Than Job Title

You know the ins and outs of your department—how things really get done, what screws everything up, how to fix it and still make deadline and budget. But you’re a job title away from the promotion that just opened up, so nobody in HR wants to take you seriously. Instead, they hire a guy from outside the company because his job title sounds more like what they want. He promptly steamrolls in with “New, new, new!” ideas, but never asks you about the real life stuff that came before him—and promptly screws up everything and its brother. Now you have to work late every night for a month to fix his mistakes and he still makes more money than you do.

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If you support Hillary and you spend time on political blogs, you’ve no doubt had your toes stomped on pretty hard. I’ve abandoned several favorite blogs because I can’t stand being told that I’m facilitating EEEE-VILLLL. Now a movement is afoot in the blogosphere to blog-cott the worst of the offenders. A sharp stiletto in the forehead for Kos, Huffpo and the rest of the blog-bully harborers. Just because I haven’t fallen into approved Twue Wuv with their shiny new candidate doesn’t make me EEEE-VILLL. Minx likes her shoes to be shiny and new; she prefers her boyfriends and her commander-in-chief to have been around the block a time or three.

More on Kos strike from Tom Watson’s blog:

A writer’s strike at DailyKos is the latest symptom of a fast-moving infection in the progressive blogosphere…boorish, Stalinist behavior online – the kind of “you’re either with us or against us” attitude we saw so much of when the Bush crowd was flying high. It’s disturbing, particularly because so many of the targets are women. This is not the Democratic Party many of us have worked for; this is not the progressive blogosphere we’ve supported. Without blaming the worthy candidacy of Senator Obama in any way, this is not a progressive movement – it’s a harsh, echo-filled politburo bathed in faux post-racial hosannas and the gauzy camera lens of “hope.”

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