An Open Letter to Hillary Clinton: Run!

Dear Hillary Rodham Clinton:

I write this in the hope that all is not yet lost. I beg you, from the bottom of my heart: run for president again!

You are the only one who can save the Democratic Party from itself. Only you have the ruthlessness, the unbending determination and the intestinal fortitude to claim what is rightfully yours. The current crop of contenders is nothing but political lightweights and cheesy wannabes. The election is less than 19 months away, and the wheels are already coming off this Democratic jalopy.

Hillary, you owe it to yourself. You owe it to the Democratic Party. You owe it to America. You owe it to the millions of young girls who wanted to see you become president three years ago. You owe it to their parents. You owe it to the world. Run!

I know you look at the Betos, the Kamalas, the Cherokees, the Mayor Petes, the Amys, and the Bernies, and reach for the chardonnay, certain in the knowledge that Trump will be there for four more years. Most of these so-called “candidates” wouldn’t be electable in Albania—much less in America. This crowd is a pathetic joke. Just looking at these people requires something far stronger than a chardonnay. Only you can bring sanity. Only you can do what you already almost did before. Twice.

You, Hillary, have been tested in the fiery crucible of presidential electoral politics. You are a veteran of four presidential campaigns, counting your husband’s. No one (except Joe Biden, and I will get to him in a moment) has more experience running for president than you. No one.

True, you have more baggage than a cargo hold of a 747 on a transatlantic flight—but that baggage has been on display in 2016, and it didn’t stop you. Unlike all the men, who never power through anything, you powered through every scandal known to man, and a few that weren’t. All the dirty laundry (well, most of the dirty laundry) is already public knowledge. You are a Clinton, after all—and that says it all.

This isn’t even about you now—it’s about these so-called “candidates.” The inmates of the Matteawan State Hospital for the Criminally Insane make for more credible candidates than most of the lunatics who call themselves “Democratic presidential candidates.” Those who aren’t complete loons are political midgets.

Take Beto O’Rourke, for example. The man is a threadbare lining of an empty suit. The El Paso City Council should have been his lifetime career ceiling—but white male privilege among Democrats being what it is, he rose in Democratic politics to become the Big Loser in the Texas U.S. Senate race. And the more we learn about him, the more of a bizarro oddball he is revealed to be. I mean, the guy admitted to trying to feed feces to his wife, for Pete’s sake! Can you imagine him in a debate with Trump? The worst culinary offense that anyone can accuse you of is baking inedible cookies.

Or take Amy Klobuchar. That woman is Minnesota-nice-meets-the-psychotic-boss-from-hell. Whatever else they can say about you, there is no record of your staffers ever shaving your silky-smooth legs, or any other part of your body. Neither Philippe Reines nor Robby Mook has ever wielded the razor over your so-near-yet-so-far-almost-presidential legs. But can you imagine Klobuchar going up against Donald Trump, regardless of the amount of personal grooming she gets from her harried staffers? He will shred her long before we get to November 2020, and won’t even break a sweat.

Kirsten Gillibrand? Gillibrand? That ungrateful, back-stabbing bitch! After all you and Bill have done for her—this is how she thanks you? That awful woman becoming president would be the ultimate insult. Thankfully, she polls at exactly zero percent.

Or take Bernie. I know you hate him. And you are right to hate him. The man should have had the minimal decency to bow out of the race by April 2016—and yet his ego wouldn’t let him. He went down in flames—and, what’s worse, he took you down with him. Bernie is an old leftist crackpot—and you, while an old leftist, seem almost reasonable in comparison. (In all fairness, looking reasonable, given the current lineup, is hardly a challenge).

That Kamala woman probably drives you nuts. She is just like you, only worse. Kamala Harris is even less relatable than you (and that says something!), and a whole lot more obnoxious. And not even too bright. Who the hell does she think she is, anyway? First, she sleeps her way to the top. (NTTAWWT, but at least you married the guy and cleaned up his messes for decades—and all she had to do was . . . ehh, let’s not even go there.) Then she makes a fool of herself during the Kavanaugh hearings. And she thinks she can be president? Wrong, wrong, and wrong!

She has zero appeal in the Midwest—unlike you. With a better team running your campaign than Mook and the gang, you can take the Midwest by storm! Working people love you there! There is a vast pool of sleeping Hillary voters all over the Rust Belt, just waiting to be awakened. Harris is a goner even before she is out of the gate—no wonder she is polling in the single digits.

Liz Warren? What a joke. If she were any whiter, she’d be Casper the Friendly Ghost. That DNA test imbroglio was an embarrassment to every woman who ever wanted to run for president on a Native American platform. Besides, show me a single person who has ever wanted to shave Warren’s insectoid legs, and I’ll show you a fetishist and a closet pervert. She just doesn’t look natural—or presidential. She is way too old, too, as she nears 70. Can you imagine anyone that age getting elected? It’s just ridiculous! And, her worst offense: she is from Massachusetts. When was the last time anybody from Massachusetts got elected president? JFK? 1960? Right.

Cory Booker? The guy who has male and female sexual harassment skeletons in his closet? Your husband may be a sexual predator, but at least he only preys on women. Compared to Booker, he seems almost like a #MeToo poster child—and in a good way! Let’s be honest here: America is not ready for an equal-opportunity sex fiend in the Oval Office. At least with Bill doing his thing in the White House again as First Dude, we know what we’re getting.

Pete Buttigieg? Is this some sort of a sick joke? Can you believe we’re seriously discussing Buttigieg? We’re now electing small-town mayors as president when we can elect the Most Qualified Woman Ever™ instead? His biggest executive achievement so far has been supervising the South Bend dog catcher. And he wants to be President? Hillary, just ask yourself one question: if it’s between you and Buttigieg, who is the better choice?

Julian Castro? Sure, the guy might be OK—for a secretary of something or other, nobody can even remember what. Even you probably can’t remember what he did, all those years ago. But president? Come on, it’s no contest there. And he can’t win. Trump will eat him for breakfast.

And let’s talk about Biden. You were right to blame him for your losing the 2016 race. He could have done better for you. He should have done better for you. He should have taken that ridiculous “working class Joe” act of his on the road far more often. Where was he in Wisconsin, when you needed him? Where was he in Michigan? In Pennsylvania? If he couldn’t deliver Pennsylvania, how the heck does he plan to win in 2020? He can’t. It’s all a mirage. You can win—but Biden is hopeless. The man is 100 percent certain to crater—it’s a question of when, not if.

Biden has almost as much baggage as you. Probably more—we’re talking two 747s worth of baggage there. The man is on the record as a racist and a sexist. Nobody has ever accused you of fondling 13-year-old boys—if nothing else, you definitely have that going for you. You’ve never fondled minors of any gender, as far as we know. Nobody has ever accused you of publicly massaging men not your husband, either. Biden? The man is a macabre dinosaur. He is not just a creepy old goat—he is a creepy old goat who parades his creepiness in front of video cameras! His clammy paws fondle women on camera, for the whole world to see! And he wants to take on Trump? I mean, we’re talking about Biden here. Biden! Forget the Democratic Party—the man is an embarrassment to the entire country.

The Democrats can do better. You know it.

Now, Republicans are certain to make an issue of your health. You probably remember (and so does everyone else) your near-coma during the 9/11 remembrance event in 2016, when you were out of action for weeks due to “a minor cold,” contracted on a balmy 75-degree day. Then the cold turned into bronchitis. Then bronchitis turned into . . . well, still bronchitis, just “severe bronchitis.”

You need to deal with this head-on. And there is a way to lay this issue to rest once and for all. A 12-member bipartisan medical commission will examine you, and pronounce you fit as a fiddle. I recommend having three Democratic congressmen, three Republican congressmen, three Democratic senators, and three Republican senators as members of the commission. Not even the most partisan Republicans will be able to argue with straight face that you are medically unfit to be president, after Ted Cruz, Mitch McConnell, and Rand Paul thoroughly probe you and explore you (er . . . I mean, explore your health status), and find nothing of note except high blood pressure, chronic respiratory problems, and post-trauma blood clots in the brain, which are all perfectly manageable with high doses of Warfarin. The bipartisan medical commission would be the final nail in the coffin of all those Republican canards that you have serious health problems.

Hillary, this is your moment. Without you, the Democratic Party is doomed. You are the only person in the entire country who has the stature, the gravitas, the experience and the respect of every single American (legal and not so legal, North American and Latin American), to be the Democratic nominee for president. The time has come to show all those Democratic wishful thinkers and self-deluding nutbags who is the real boss. The deplorables will not stop you this time. The New York Times will not stop you this time. James Comey will not stop you this time. (Trump fired him, so we’re all good there.) The Macedonian hackers and the Russians are on the run—you’re on to them.

The time has come to announce your 2020 presidential run. The world is waiting.

Photo credit: Jeff Swensen/Getty Images

About George S. Bardmesser

George S. Bardmesser is an attorney in private practice in the Washington, D.C. area. He is the author of Future Shot and Distance to Target, as well as a contributor to The Federalist and American Greatness. He is sometimes heard on the "Inside Track" radio show on KVOI in Tucson, Arizona, and sometimes seen discussing politics (in Russian) on New York’s American-Russian TV channel RTVi and the Two Cats Video Productions politics podcast.

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