“What difference, at this point, does it make?” barked Hillary Clinton when Wisconsin Senator Ron Johnson pressed for answers in the Benghazi hearings of January 23, 2013.
Mrs. Clinton had it up to here, as the saying goes. She’d been through the mill for weeks. First an embassy slaughter. Then the flu. A nasty bump on the head. And now silly people asking questions about other people—dead people, no less. How mean it was to rain on the parade that was supposed to usher her out of the State Department. She’d planned a grand affair, you know, toasts, canapés, and a red carpet long enough to reach from Madame Secretary to Madame President.
And did I mention there would be lots of security? The parade would be well protected, of course. There would be canapés, after all, or at the very least, cheesesticks to guard.
But instead she got a nervy senator from Wisconsin. How dare he seek accountability from such high and mighty folks as she! He and his peers represent mere people, you know, ordinary folks like the wives and mothers and children and siblings of the Benghazi victims.
“What right have they to press moi for the truth?” she asked. “Don’t we say nice enough things about the middle class and terrible enough things about those awful rich people like me? Isn’t that enough? Are these people never satisfied?
“What do they want? Blood?”
No, Mrs. Clinton. We’ve had enough blood. We want the truth. And we will have it.
Just ask Jay Carney. Poor guy. When it looked like the administration’s truth embargo was ironclad, and Jay C. could push pablum for another forty-three months…then poof—the whole embargo was shot full of holes, along with the tissue of lies it was protecting.
Truth is a funny thing. Relentless, I tell you. Whitewash it, deny it all day long, spit on it, stomp it, and smother it with baloney, but you cannot kill it. Like a green shoot breaking through a Brooklyn sidewalk, the truth will have its way with you.
Just give it time.
As for you Mrs. Clinton, you were a cog in the wheel of your nemesis. He rained on your parade in 2008 and then kept you safely tucked away in his cabinet. Now he’s hiding behind the curtain submarining your hopes for 2016 by throwing you under the Benghazi bus.
But don’t worry. The truth is coming for him, too. There isn’t a curtain big enough.
Donna Scuderi is a writer, political junkie, hockey-loving foodie, and impassioned worshiper of the Most High. For more of her articles, click here.