The Official Blog Of Edward Cline

Villains: Where or What Would They Be?

Ellsworth Toohey, the arch-villain of Ayn Rand’s
novel, The
, meets with Peter Keating, an arch-compromiser,
second-hander, and betrayer of what few personal values he had, and who has
just won a lucrative architectural contest. Toohey’s chief focus, however, is
not Keating, but Howard Roark, the novel’s hero. Toohey has never met him, but
fears him and is planning to destroy his career in architecture and see him
jailed and taking orders from his moral inferiors.
Toohey – whose physical appearance Rand had modeled
on the British socialist Harold
– “…spoke with a kind of cautious precision. The sounds of his voice
were small and dry and final, like the cracks of matches being broken.” At one
point in their conversation, which Keating senses has taken an odd turn, Toohey
asks him several questions about Roark.
                “Does he talk much?”
                “Very little.”
                “Does he listen if others
discuss any…ideas with him?”
                “He listens. It would be better
if he didn’t.”
                “It would be less insulting – if
you know what I mean, when a man listens like that and you know it hasn’t made
slightest bit of difference to him.”
                “Did he always want to be an
                “What’s the matter, Peter?”
                “Nothing. It just occurred to me
how strange it is that I’ve never asked myself that about him. He’s a maniac on
the subject of architecture. It seems to mean so damn much to him that’s he’s
lost all human perspective. He just has no sense of humor about himself at all
– now there’s a man without a sense of humor, Ellsworth. You don’t ask what
he’d do if he didn’t want to be an architect.”
                “No,” said Toohey. “You ask what
he’d do if he couldn’t be an architect.”
                “He’d walk over corpses. Any and
all of them. All of us. But he’d be an architect.” [pp. 253-254]
That excerpt is by way of introducing the subject
of what prominent, real life villains today would be had they not any political
connections, no ambition or aspirations to occupy the highest and most powerful
political offices, no desire to walk over any and all corpses, including us, to
run the country – or at least cripple it or “transform” it so that it was
manageable according to a malevolent universe premise – or no desire to give
orders to their moral superiors.
The chief Peter Keatings  and Ellsworth Tooheys here are the Clintons.
Also known as the Clanton – or Clinton – Gang. Hillary and Bill run their own
version of the cattle-rustling “Cowboys.”
Were it not for Bill Clinton’s penchant for preferring
any port in a storm  — that’s a sexual innuendo,
I hope it’s suitably offensive, but it can also be a politician’s pragmatic
option of saying anything and adopting the most expedient pose to stay in power
– and for his making Hillary his “life
” and cuckolded spiritual soul-mate, I do believe Hillary would
be a welfare queen somewhere, or a bag lady, or holding odd jobs such as writing
a newspaper sob sister’s agony column or composing daily horoscopes, or be known
in a bad quarter of town as a foul-mouthed bar fly turning tricks in the men’s
room. Perhaps she’d be a lowly, drunken trailer-park harridan and floozy. There
is absolutely no substance to this woman. She is a nonentity imbued with a
compulsion to control reality by controlling men – in politics.
Having observed her behavior and actions ever since
the 1990’s, I have concluded that Hillary is the very model of moral
Well, at least after Barack Obama. But, Obama’s
shrewd, as shrewd and feral as cougar stalking its prey. Still, there is
nothing in his soul but a messy mound of poisonous glop.
Likewise, there is no substance to Bill Clinton.
Were it not for the growth of statism, of the
welfare state, of power politics, of the suborning of Congress by lobbyists
seeking exemptions from regulations, or legislation that would insulate them
from or destroy competition, the Clintons would be denizens of the lower depths
of society.
I can imagine Bill as a pimp of some kind – of the
flesh, of the petty favor – as a two-bit ward heeler. As a peddler
of patent medicines, as a carnival barker, as an auction house shill, as a Cincinnati Kid-caliber gambler,
as a nickel-and-dime craps shooter. As a street corner hustler scamming people
with the three-card
card game, charming the suckers with his soft Arkansas drawl.
Young Bill shook the hand of the country’s premier,
“what you can do for your country” fascist, John
F. Kennedy
(in a photograph I have dubbed, “Passing the Torch of
One might object: But, they went to college! The
most respectable ones! Hillary went to Wellesley
and then Yale Law School. Bill went to Georgetown University, and Oxford, and Yale Law School.
That’s where the soul-mates met! It’s so romantic! How can you compare them
with the dross and besotted sawdust of society?
One’s educational pedigree is no guarantee of one’s
character. Hillary corresponded with American radical Saul Alinsky and wrote her
adulatory 1969 Wellesley thesis, “There
Is Only the Fight
,” on his political action tactics.
A successful industrialist or investment billionaire
is a billionaire because he has mastered reality. Bill and Hillary are
literally “filthy rich” in a congenital quest to amass a fortune which they see
as a shield against reality. Daniel
Greenfield, in a May 7th FrontPage column noted:
Clinton has many positions, against and for gay marriage, against and for
illegal immigration, for and against fighting crime. If you don’t like a
Hillary position, write out a $300,000 check to the Clinton Foundation and wait
4 to 6 weeks for her position to change.
Statism, or the political philosophy that the state
is all, and the individual but its servant, acts as a vehicle for power-seekers
and the pursuers of the unearned, and allows the dross and dredges of society
to rise to the top strata of the state, by fair means and foul, by deception
and verisimilitude. They run for office by putting on dog
and pony
shows;  today’s shows are
elaborate and long drawn-out “campaigns” and cost billions of dollars, from the
time a person announces his candidacy to razzle-dazzle party conventions. What
serves as the ringmaster of the multifarious spectacle?
Largely, the mainstream media, which is decidedly
pro-statism, and pro-anyone who promises to expand the welfare state.
Under statism, virtuous men are barred from running
for office because of their virtues.
The Bill and Hillary Clintons of politics do not produce anything. Instead, like their
other power-lusting ilk, they scheme, manipulate, plot to get money, to get power.
Then there’s their distaff spawn, Chelsea Clinton. Like
parents, like daughter. Greenfield had no kind words for her, either, in his May
18th FrontPage article, “Bill
and Hillary Produced the Ultimate Entitled Offspring.
shouldn’t be too much of a shock. As bad as Bill and Hillary are, they did at
least put some effort into getting where they are. Chelsea was simply born. It
shouldn’t be too shocking that she acts like the entitled
spoiled brat of an entitled power couple
Greenfield links to an article by Richard Johnson
of the New York Post, also of May 18th, “Staff
Quit Clinton Foundation
is so unpleasant to colleagues, she’s causing high turnover at the
Bill, Hillary and Chelsea Clinton Foundation, sources say. Several top staffers
have left the foundation since Chelsea came on board as vice chairman in 2011…
None of this
would surprise her former co-workers at McKinsey and NBC News. At both the
management consulting firm and the network, co-workers allegedly were told they
couldn’t approach Chelsea.
A source at
NBC, where
Chelsea was paid $600,000 a year
, said, “If someone wanted to talk to
Chelsea about something, they had to go through a producer.”
… Instead of
being something Hillary can point to with pride, the foundation has become a
bloated slush fund that some critics say deserves an official investigation.
And Chelsea’s fingerprints are all over it.
About that habit of “getting” money, there’s also
the scandal
behind that foundation’s
donor sources and its purposes.
But that’s a whole ‘nother story.
Hillary, Dickory, Dock.
Hillary’s racing the clock.
She’s only sixty-nine.
Way, way past her prime.
And her talk is as full as a windsock.
Hillary, Billary, Dock
The lady’s racing the clock
Unlike her hubby
She’s turned a tat tubby
So Bill‘s living out of wedlock.
by Ayn Rand. New York: Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1943. 754 pp.


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