When Maureen Dowd is good she is very, very good. But when Maureen Dowd is bad she’s rotten.
Whether it’s shellacking Hillary Clinton or ridiculing various limp-wristed Liberal girly men, she’s not happy unless she’s snarky. She’s loves to bare her teeth and rip the flesh as she belittles and ridicules the subjects she deems inferior.
She’s also insanely hard on women in powerful positions to the point that if she were a man she’d most undoubtedly would be a misogynist. But since she’s a woman it’s just ironic that she often has it out for other power gals who are opinionated as she is.
Maybe there can only be one Queen Bee. Perhaps that’s what troubles her. Before my eyes she is morphing her 24/7 “Hillary Hate” coverage to possible Michelle Mincing. Dowd slyly expressed alarm over the femme Obama last year after she found her too tough on her “débutante” husband. She was too much of a dominating presence. Oh dear! A marriage where both man and woman are equal? Quelle horror!
Once again, IRONY. I often wonder if Dowd is aware that what she writes about Clinton and Michelle Obama and countless other female figures sounds an awful lot like what people say about her. That hateful bitch! And that’s really what her deal is. She’s a hater. She’s the chick who calls you a lush after she’s downed five shots of Patron. She calls you a slut in her Slam book. She’s the toilet flusher when you’re in the shower. The spazz who screws your boyfriend. The jealous diva who dumps pig’s blood on your prom dress. She’s that bitch.
God. I hate that bitch, but she’s usually the most popular with the most money.
Dowd was a bit nicer towards Michelle Obama in her latest column. I put the nice part mildly as one can never trust Dowd when she appears to be charitable. Especially when some have claimed that Dowd can’t tell Michelle Obama from other upwardly mobile black women. I’m always waiting for the biting backhand, the snide digs, the emasculation of the men and the masculation of the women.
But this column was particularly “Sob Sister-ish.”
In their narrative of how Hillary lost in The Times on Sunday, Jim Rutenberg and Peter Baker said that Mark Penn argued that Hillary should subtly stress Obama’s “lack of American roots.”
That’s a good preview of how Republicans will attack Michelle, suggesting that she does not share American values, mining a subtext of race.
She’s a devoted daughter, wife and mother who has lived the American dream, from the humble South Side of Chicago to Harvard Law School. Hey, isn’t it totally unAmerican to complain that being a black woman in the ’80s at a class-conscious, white-bread college, Princeton, was somewhat uncomfortable?
This is especially interesting when last year, Dowd wrote this:
I wince a bit when Michelle Obama chides her husband as a mere mortal — a comic routine that rests on the presumption that we see him as a god.
The tweaking takes place at fundraisers, where Michelle wants to lift the veil on their home life a bit and give the folks their money’s worth …
Michelle conveys the appealing idea that she will tell her husband when he’s puffed up or out of line. She aims high — she ordered her husband to stop puffing on cigarettes as he started campaigning. But then, why didn’t she see the red flags on the Rezko deal?
I can’t tell how Dowd actually feels about Michelle Obama. I always think “it’s a trick!” whenever she becomes charitable. How long will this last before the poison pens come out? This is the same woman who wrote “Can Hillary Cry Her Way Back to the White House?” And Media Matters has devoted an entire report on Dowd’s feminization of Barack Obama and John Edwards, as well as her continued disdain for Sen. Clinton.
(I)n an April 2 column, Dowd claimed that “[h]is strenuous and inadvertently hilarious efforts to woo working-class folk in Pennsylvania have only made him seem more effete.” Later in the column, she wrote: “At the Wilbur chocolate shop in Lititz Monday, he spent most of his time skittering away from chocolate goodies, as though he were a starlet obsessing on a svelte waistline.
So don’t mind me if I’m not reading Dowd’s column today as a point of solidarity for bitchatude. It just sounds like the prelude before the first verse. I’m sure by the chorus the song will sound the same — Kick ’em when they’re up, kick ’em when they’re down.