What Follows

     It strikes me as inevitable that in the wake of Hillary Clinton’s September 11 collapse we’d be treated to a spiral of ever-wilder speculation. She doesn’t have pneumonia, she has Parkinson’s. No, she doesn’t; she has brain damage. She’s using a body double to deflect queries about her health. No, it’s the double who’s actually unhealthy; Clinton herself hasn’t appeared in public in nine months, for fear of assassination. Wait, wait: Clinton is actually dead. The double will take office in her place, to secure her name in history as America’s First Woman President!

     Has anyone yet entertained the possibility that there is no Hillary Clinton – that there never has been? I mean, we all know about Bill’s sexual proclivities. Why would he marry that? It’s much more likely that “Bill’s wife Hillary” has been played by a succession of B-list actresses. Actors, after all, must master the art of lying for money. Not to mention all the accents “Hillary” has tried to fake...

     Of course, those actresses had to be carefully selected. Each one had to be a near-perfect fit to the prescribed pattern. Each one had to appear the right age under the klieg lights. Each one had to possess the ability to feign all the necessary emotions – and, of course, the erudition expected of a lawyer. And it was absolutely vital that none of these actresses become emotionally attached to “her husband.” That would have been disastrous.

     It wouldn’t have taken much for the Governor of Arkansas, arguably the most inept, most corrupt government in the United States, to arrange for the required deceptions and concealments. And a wife, as we know, is politically required for an ambitious politician. One that lacks a wife will get very unpleasant attention from the media. When Woodrow Wilson’s first wife, Ellen Axson, died in 1914, he was quick to replace her with Edith Bolling, whom he married in 1915 – and he was already in the White House.

     So Bill, who was set on the presidency from a very early point in his career, had to have a wife. Moreover, she had to fit a certain set of parameters:

• A Democrat, of course;
• Acceptably, but not too physically attractive;
• Apparently intelligent, as would befit a successful lawyer;
• In keeping with the era, a somewhat militant feminist / “social justice” reformer;
• And willing to clench her teeth and “stay with him” despite the humiliation from his straying.

     But such a woman is a lot like technetium; if such women do exist in nature, they’re extremely, even vanishingly rare. As for such a woman marrying him? A horny hick from Arkansas who can’t even master his waistline, much less his libido? Forget it!

     My word! Why hasn’t anyone else deduced the implausibility of a real Hillary Rodham Clinton? Why is all the heavy lifting left to me? She’s an android, Gentle Reader. A certified golem! Body by Fisher, training by Stanislavski, scripts from whatever part of Hollywood produces B-movies and slasher flicks!

     The Plutonians must have been out of their mind to back this “power couple.” But then, their ambition to conquer the Solar System and relocate their frigid orb to Earth’s orbit has always been a trifle dubious. I mean, the opposition from the Hermesians and Venerians alone would guarantee the stiffest sort of resistance, to say nothing of what the Illuminati would think.

     The sticking point about this otherwise perfectly logical and utterly convincing thesis is that the FBI must know already. I mean, don’t they know everything? Apart from what the CIA is keeping from them, of course. Therefore, by unimpeachable inference, the FBI is in the pay of the conspiracy! Why, I can feel their telepathy ray invading my brain as we speak!

     Would one of you Gentle Readers kindly preserve this screed for me? In case I should become the next victim of an Arkanicide? And make sure the residuals from the Star and the Weekly World News go to my heirs, please? Thanks.