By New Times
By Connor Radnovich
By Robrt L. Pela and Amy Silverman
By Ray Stern
By Keegan Hamilton
By Matthew Hendley
By Monica Alonzo
By Monica Alonzo
For more than six months now, international news has been dominated by a story about a blowjob.
While bombs have exploded, shots have been fired, cancer and AIDS have done their miserable business as usual, the most important issue according to the media has been whether Monica Lewinsky did or did not give Bill Clinton a blowjob in the Oval Office.
This is not necessarily a bad thing.
Yes, the issue is staggeringly trivial. But its very triviality, and the way prosecutors have pursued it, and the way the American public has responded, tell a story about a change in the national mindset, a coming of age in the American people.
This column is not a defense of Clinton. It needs to be said at this point that I hate President William Jefferson Clinton. I have nothing against Bill Clinton the man. I've never met him. I don't know him, and don't care to. As far as I'm aware, Bill Clinton, Esquire, has never done anything really terrible to anyone. But William Clinton, President of the United States, is vile. And I hate him.
I hate him for his cowardice and lack of principle. For abandoning his supposed commitment to health-care reform. For playing politics with the death penalty. For his pandering to China, a regime so cruel that no democratic country should have anything to do with it. I hate him for his business-oriented conservatism and his liberal mask. I hate him for his faux compassion, for the platitudinous sound bites he delivers while governing a wealthy country with the highest rate of child poverty of any industrialized society.
I hate him because he's one of the worst presidents this country has ever had.
But I don't hate Clinton as much as I despise Kenneth Starr and his pathetic, personal vendetta against the president. And, as much as I hate Clinton, I'm not too blinded to see that he has been persecuted by Starr's witch hunt. A man's personal life is supposedly his own business. Not in this case. A hearing before a grand jury is supposed to be secret. Not in this case. Any investigation of suspected wrongdoing is supposed to be fair and impartial. Not in this case.
Starr, a right-wing zealot who can't separate his ego from his work, has become increasingly desperate to get some dirt on Clinton. As he spent more and more millions investigating the president for political and business corruption, and continued to turn up nothing solid, it became more and more urgent for him to find something, anything, to justify his budget. Finally, with no real ammunition to fire at Clinton, Starr delved into Clinton's sex life.
When Starr discovered that Monica Lewinsky claimed--in private--to have had an affair with Clinton, he went after it as though he'd just discovered Watergate. And the media joined in, presenting this as a major political scandal.
It wasn't--although Starr's response certainly was.
There was nothing political about it. It was hormones, not politics, that made president and intern get together. Monica Lewinsky, as far as anyone knows, didn't play the presidential skin flute for political purposes. And we can be fairly sure that, whatever was on his mind while she did it, it wasn't policy.
This was a middle-aged guy cheating on his wife with a young woman. And it was a young woman, starry-eyed at working in a high-powered environment, having an affair with her married boss.
That's all it was. It was purely personal. It affected no one but the guy, his wife and his lover. And so it was no one else's business.
But Kenneth Starr made it his business. He tried to make it the public's business. He tried to make us see it as our business, see it as something important.
So far, he hasn't succeeded.
We wouldn't have had to put up with this soap opera if Bill Clinton weren't such a moron, and if he were less arrogant. When he was accused of having an affair with Lewinsky, he could have burst Starr's bubble by either refusing to discuss it or just admitting it. Confessing wouldn't have done him much damage politically. His affair with Gennifer Flowers came to light during his first presidential campaign, and he still got elected. The whole thing may actually have helped him, by humanizing him in the eyes of the public.
So he could have confessed to the affair with Lewinsky, saying that it was his business and nothing to do with his job. Even better, he could have treated the question with the contempt it deserved and refused to answer or discuss it.
But Clinton didn't do the sensible thing. By responding to Starr's accusation, he accepted its validity, accepted that Starr had the right to ask such a question. And, by denying the affair, he may have committed perjury.
On August 17, he went on national TV and confessed. But, he assured us, he hadn't committed perjury, he hadn't actually lied, because the sex he'd had with Lewinsky didn't meet the criteria used in his deposition to define an affair.