“Carville’s Other Woman”: The Back Story
Copyright © by Alex Woodward, 7/5/08

  Long-time Clinton operative James Carville used to be cute, with his bald head and his boyish grin and his quick smart-ass wit, especially when he appeared on talk TV debating against his wife Mary, an equally intelligent if slightly less feisty and less amusing Republican operative. These two political enemies “hooked up” around 1991 (before couples “hooked up;” Mary, without irony, once called it "consorting") and by the following year James was helping Bill Clinton get elected for the first time while Mary was fighting to keep Pa Bush around for a second term.
  Fast forward to 2008, now about 16 years later: Carville is again helping the Clintons, but this time Hillary rather than Bill. This time around it seems Carville doesn’t even have to get directly paid to support Hillary in a primary campaign against Barack Obama where Hillary, seeing her wed-to-rule status erode almost weekly, begins projecting the image of none other than former Alabama Governor George C. Walllace, Jr. (an image now updated, of course, to a more subtly coded, less regionally restricted female version).
  Carville showed us several times this past spring how he used his formidable verbal swordsmanship to advance a white presidential candidate, Hillary Clinton, able to unashamedly belittle her black opponent for his comparatively weak “support among working, hard-working Americans, white Americans.” (Clinton, to the limited extent that her observation was true, should instead have been lamenting it, should instead have been publicly talking about expanding “universal healthcare” for this hard-to-cure racial disease of ours.)
  Carville also called one of America’s most dynamic, most experienced Hispanic-American leaders a “Judas,” thereby ensuring himself a notation in the history of sleaze politics, right alongside Dick Cheney’s infamous use of the F word on the floor of the Senate. Carville stood by his sick-minded name-calling long after his initial pain should have passed from what he grandiosely likens to a betrayal of B. & H. Clinton-Christ (apparently, in Carville’s eyes, our wedded saviors).
  Switching from his second-crucifixion screenplay to a pubescent scrotal obsession, Carville later advised Americans to vote for Hillary Clinton because her endowments, he informed us, are such that if she gave Obama “one of her cojones, they’d both have two.” This remark, delivered in the spirit of gangsta-warped masculinity, during Carville's interview with someone who works as “a political analyst for the Fox News Network,” was the kind of psychosexual pathology we would expect of the Bush-Cheney-Rove machine, with its boys’-locker-room mentality, not of a would-be opinion leader in today’s Democratic Party (which, while too deeply divided by Hillary’s background, was the only party sincerely wanting to elect a woman, in part because they'd seen the harm created these past eight years by an excess of testicular hubris).
  I’m not sure when if ever it’s a good idea for one man to accuse another of lacking the normal gonadal number. But it would seem particularly bad form when a white guy makes this accusation against a black guy, in a country with a long, violent history of white enslavement of blacks, reminding us again how slavery (like its child, the ghetto) for males is an act of psychological castration. And most troubling of all is when the white guy happens to be a stereotypical example of the deep-South redneck like Carville, one well connected to the contemporary cult BBB (Bubba Boss Bollocks), whose social ancestor was the KKK, historically known to use knives, not words, to castrate its uppity blacks.
  And what an uppity kid Obama must seem to the Clinton dynasty, as the anointed front-runner, once patiently awaiting her turn to reclaim the family throne (and show the father-son Bush duo a new trick), gets defeated by an underdog who hasn’t even paid the regular dues to the Beltway Top-Feeders Club. Yes, this is indeed the kind of traumatic shock whose first symptom in victims is absolute denial.
  Now it’s summer and even slow-to-heal Clinton is beginning to recover from denial and recognize that she has lost (unless, of course—and this must be pointed out to the public—her luck changes in the next few months and Obama gets assassinated!). The Obama and Clinton sides are trying to play kiss-and-make-up, but both Clintons sure are doing a good job of not hiding their bitterness. Carville, too, as his party struggles toward some kind of reconciliation that his underpaid devotion isn't taking an active part in, apparently feels he has nothing to apologize for.
  Fortunately, we can always count on hormonally confused talking heads like Carville to boast that they can take it as hard as they spit it out. So here’s a poem meant to test Carville’s “mettle,” so to speak, while inviting him to show us what kind of dangling rhymes he’s personally hung with when he finds his rapier wit parried.

Carville’s Other Woman

    If Hillary gave Obama one of her cojones,
    they’d both have two.
                James Carville, May 2008

Rodham’s testis reveal came at birth, an act
Of God on a binge, while her latter-day pair
Was sewn, swore Ken Starr, in a Wikan-style graft.
(Dark rumors say Foster, alive, wouldn’t share.)

James clung to both Clintons, unlike his wife,
Who hated all three when hubby’d go pray
For Rodham’s fur chest, a homestead for lice
If not washed, combed out, and sprayed twice a day.

When Willie had Monica type on her knees
(A volume of Whitman perfecting her height),
Proud James cheered them on with his pimp-to-power glee.
He dreamed ringside rounds of great triple-weight fights,

But all the Rod did was invite Jesse in
To co-host the White House’s soft-swinging cell,
And while the two addicts swapped tales of hot sin
James brokered New York in a deal signed in hell.

And soon our non-baking First Ovum would gain
A seat in the Senate, where taking the floor
She showed how a marriage for power hides its shame:
Close your eyes and scream Yes! for fake, sexed-up war.

Alex Woodward


If Carville should ever claim that his deliberate slur of Senator Obama, in spite of its racist overtones and its preoccupation with kinky sexual insults, was “all in good fun, guys, hey! no personal offense intended, you know, hee hee hee. . . .”, we’ll say “Ditto here.”



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