The Long View - satire about Bill Clinton - Brief Article

National Review, Sept 3, 2001 by Rob Long

Some early excerpts from Devil in a Blue Dress

By Bill Clinton.

from page 7:

. . . her pouting red lips and teased-up hair were all I could make out in the dim Arkansas moonlight. "So, little Billy Clinton," she purred, "are you going to make anything of yourself?"

I couldn't see in the darkness, but I knew she was smiling. "Yes'm," I gulped, shivering in the cool of an autumn night, "I reckon if'n I kin study hard and work hard, I kin mebbe git on out of Hope, mebbe get me t'Oxford or sumpin'."

Now she laughed-a full, deep, throaty laugh-and I saw the flash of her white teeth and the smooth alabaster skin of her neck in silhouette. She produced a silver cigarette case, snapped it open with a flourish, took out a long cigarette, lit it with her silver lighter, then took a deep drag.

Years later, when I found out that she had died of lung cancer, I made it my mission as governor and, later, as president, to fight Big Tobacco. But then, in the Arkansas twilight, all I could think about was her laugh, her smile, her shimmering blue dress.

"So, Billy, are you going to forget all about us back here in Arkansas?"

I shook my head. "No'm!" I cried. "Everythin' here is my home. This here's my place! Won't ever fergit it. Be bad wrong if'n I do!"

She smiled again, then slinked her way to my trembling side. She leaned in next to me and put her lips to my ear. I was shaking like a leaf- nervous, excited, confused-and I couldn't bring myself to look at her. I could smell her violet perfume as she whispered in my ear: "Well, now, Billy, we're going to have to make absolutely certain you never, ever, ever forget your friends back home, aren't we?"

from page 109:

. . . as he looked queasy and slightly sick. "I think you've had enough, Bob," I said to him. He's a little man-not just short, but little in other ways, too, as I discovered when I read the book he wrote about me after serving as my secretary of labor. But back then, when we were at Oxford together, he still knew what loyalty meant, and I kept an eye out for him during our weekly outings to the local pub.

"Jush one more little 'un," he slurred. I raised my hand to get the innkeeper's attention.

"I think your little Jewish friend has had enough," said a voice from behind. "Now be a good lad and take him home for his rest." I turned.

The girl who stood in front of me was an apple-cheeked beauty. She smiled at me and extended her hand. "The name's Siobhan," she said. "I'm from Belfast."

I was too dazed to reply. Her looks were classically Irish-and her lilting accent had me captivated. I was worried, though, about Bob's condition-I didn't want him to soil Siobhan's shimmering blue dress-so I slipped him back onto a stool.

"I'm Bill Clinton," I said, offering my hand.

"I know who y'are," was her reply. "They're sayin' ye might be president some day. And that would be a good thing. So if y'are, I'd like to ask you to do somethin'."

"Anything," I replied.

"Do somethin' about the troubles in my country. I've lost three brothers to the violence, and I'm certain I'll lose a few more before the year. It has to stop. The fightin' has to end."

I nodded. Siobhan spoke with such quiet strength and grace that I barely noticed that she had slipped her hand under my coat. Her hand traveled low. She pulled me to her.

"I'll be grateful to you forever, Bill Clinton," she said quietly.

from page 567:

"No!" I shouted, slamming the coffee cup down on its saucer. Both were emblazoned with the presidential seal. The group in the Oval Office was shifting nervously. They knew I wasn't happy.

"We need to keep this budget balanced," I said, with a low intense voice. "We need to prove that the federal government can restrain itself, invest in the right things, and get this economy moving after the ravages of the Reagan-Bush recession."

There was silence in the room. Then, from the back, came a soft, honeyed voice.

"You are absolutely correct, Mr. President."

All eyes turned to Alan Greenspan, resplendent in a shimmering blue suit and tie.

"If you maintain that course, sir," he said, "the result will be the longest economic expansion in world history. And I'll be proud to manage the Fed throughout your reign." His eyes glinted with tears. He strode across the room and swept me up in a hug.

"I love you, Bill Clinton," he whispered in my ear.