White House Hounds Fall Silent at Marcia Lewis' Tears

White House Hounds
Fall Silent at
Marcia Lewis' Tears

One cannot help but wonder how the White House operatives sleep with the stench of their own work product in their nostrils as they sally forth again, assigned to sully the reputation of yet another modestly attractive young woman who had the misfortune to cross Bill Clinton's path and (apparently) succumb to his charms.
In this case, they have found themselves working through press surrogates to attack the character of a young woman who has not broken faith with the president ... so far ... who in fact still risks jail time to stick to her story that she did not have an affair with the president of the United States.
And how is she rewarded? The president's henchmen produce for us Monica Lewinsky's former college drama coach, to testify he had

an affair with Ms. Lewinsky ... after she graduated.
Ooh, the little tramp!
Why, she probably invented the whole thing, trying to make herself appear more important by lying to everyone, including ... her tearful, red-eyed mom?
Suddenly last week the White House magpies fell silent, as the obviously distraught Marcia Lewis was forced to return to testify before the grand jury for a third day, so difficult was she finding the tribulation of having to (we can only presume) recount her own daughter's confidences about a frustrating intimate relationship.
What, will even James Carville stop at suggesting that a young woman would make up out of thin air her giddy emotional spiral from excitement to heartbreak at being drawn into such a doomed relationship, when the confidant in question is her own mother?
Beyond whining that recording people as they talk privately to their purported friends is repulsive (will Janet

Reno's Justice Department now spring the thousands of non-violent drug and gun convicts they have sent away by using similar tactics?) the current White House defense consists of two mutually contradictory premises, sort of like the old joke (well, it was never much of a joke) about the fellow who swears he never met the woman, and besides she was asking for it, dressed the way she was.

It beggars reason how otherwise sensible people can insist they believe the president when he says he had no sexual relationship with Ms. Lewinsky, while at the same time joining in attacking the then-21-year-old woman as responsible for initiating the affair, sneering that the little tramp had obviously set her cap for him.

Let us presume for the moment that Ms. Lewinsky did let the president know she was available. What is the normal standard of behavior we would expect from a 50-ish employer, when the daughter of a financial supporter -- entrusted to his temporary professional care -- offers a sexual dalliance?

Yes, I lived through the sexual revolution. Let unwed college students sleep three to a bed, so long as they get their antibiotics. No problem.

But is it so unthinkable that a decent

fellow might gently explain he is flattered at the suggestion, but that he is a married man, that the young woman's parents placed a measure of trust in him, and that it would be taking unfair advantage to act on such a suggestion?
Instead, from all appearances, the cad in the White House dug up for Ms. Lewinsky the lyric of the old Rolling Stones song: "Don't want you hanging around, Over on my side of town. Don't want you part of my world ... Just you be my back street girl."
No, getting lucky with the serving girls is probably neither "illegal," nor "impeachable." But surely we can agree Bill Clinton's behavior, if he so indulged himself, was stunningly shabby.
Of course it's a shame Ms. Lewinsky's mother is now before a grand jury, having to reveal her daughter's heartfelt confidences. But the person who had the power to stop such events from ever transpiring ... who had the maturity and the responsibility to foresee the likely results and prevent them ... was none other than the President of the United States.
All right, we can still hope against hope that one day Mr. Clinton will come out of hiding and convince us he did not add to his original indiscretion the insult and crime of sending henchmen

to buy silence and cover his tracks, and then lying about the whole affair.

But we also need to prepare ourselves for the real possibility that our prosperity, and the lives of hundreds of thousands, have now been placed in the hands of a pathological hypocrite and liar, a man whose actions here demonstrate that "sending in the clean-up squad" has become a very old habit, indeed.

Shall we now go have another look at the fiber evidence that indicates

Vince Foster somehow managed to transport himself to the site of his suicide, dry-shod, in a rolled-up carpet?

Vin Suprynowicz is the assistant editorial page editor of the Las Vegas Review-Journal. Readers may contact him via e-mail at vin@lvrj.com. The web site for the Suprynowicz column is at http://www.nguworld.com/vindex/. The column is syndicated in the United States and Canada via Mountain Media Syndications, P.O. Box 4422, Las Vegas Nev. 89127.

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