- Wednesday, September 28, 2016

In the first debate, Hillary Clinton smoked Donald Trump pure and simple, hands down. The contest featured a political player piano stuffed with soundbites, calm and collected, resplendent in red, against an easily distracted political neophyte clearly overmatched in every aspect. I was looking forward to a donnybrook worthy of the beer and chips I had laid in, but soon became almost as distracted as the man in blue.

I know Mrs. Clinton’s schtick, I’ve heard it for decades. I know every wrinkle, every appeal to the politics of personal identity and every cudgel leveled against the wealthy. I wince when she accuses us of systemic racism, as if she and her colleagues in the governing class over many years can avoid their own measure of responsibility for black pain and anguish. As a practiced and finely polished professional politician, Mrs. Clinton excels at baiting the beginner — and, boy, did she ever have an easy foil.

That’s why she wore bright red, by the way, to lead the bull in the race to the slaughter. Both ears, the tail and a hoof to the lady in red.

PAUL BLOUSTEIN

Cincinnati

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