On Not Being Able To Stop Thinking About Dana Perino
January 29, 2009 in Politics
I miss her already.
Her name was Dana Marie Perino. She stood five feet, one inch tall. Her blonde hair was chin-length. Her voice was high but quaver-free. Her bullshit was the purest snow, only, y’know, bullshit.
She’s not dead. She’s simply the former White House Press Secretary. But she will, likely as not, end up drowned by history, Ophelia in the Elsinore of delusion that was the post-2006 Bush administration.
Or to put it another way, someone threw a shoe at the President and in the ensuing chaos, Perino got punched in the face with a microphone. This is a metaphor, and not a particularly subtle one.
