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Wednesday 25 February 2015

Hillary is the Beyonce of politics.

The epiphany came to me, effortlessly, after watching Beyonce’s “Lemonade” on HBO, and listening to her lyrics on Tidal, her husband’s, Jay Z’z, streaming service.
When you stop being a girl and become a woman, only then do you really understand what being a woman entails. You have to be brighter, better, more dedicated, more disciplined, more principled, more serious than any of your male peers just so you have a shot at the life they have.
Women also bear the burden of shame heavy on their backs. Slut-shamed. Shamed as prudes. Shamed as nothing less than monstrous Medeas if they make a mistake, when they are spouses and mothers. The list goes on.
The perversity of this mentality though, that no amount of political correctness or female empowerment spiel has ameliorated, hits peak point when a woman is cuckolded, or in any way betrayed, by her significant other. Even though her husband may be lambasted as a “cheater”, the wife is always demeaned. The pity and empathy she is given in loads implies that she did not “deserve” to be cheated on “just because her husband found a more attractive/sexy/young alternative.” In public perception, the woman is divested of an integral element of her feminity. And this element of feminity that far transcends the spectrum of sexuality and age, is a vital part of who a woman is as a whole person. So essentially, the wronged wife is wronged twice. Once by her husband, and once by everyone else.
This process is anathema to any woman, especially a strong one like Hillary always was. It is also entirely irrational and unfair. Yet Hillary knew better than to try to change this mentality in principle a priori by projecting herself as a role model. She turned to action for her personal empowerment. Keeping her head held high, she trudged through the mud, through sheer will managing to come out on the other side, pristine, rejunevated, and now on her way to becoming the nation’s first female President.
The fury emanating from Hillary’s demeanor as she stood by a penitent President Clinton as he apologized to the nation for the Lewinsky scandal, initially seemed to be the living depiction of “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
But Hillary was so much more than that. Part of her fury originated, I believe, from this fact exactly: that her entire (charismatic) persona and personal path was cast aside, in the public’s perception of her as a one-dimensional betrayed wife.
Yet the problem was, that despite it all, Hillary has always been, has always wanted to be, if not The Wife, certainly Bill’s wife. Her timeless affection for and connection to Bill Clinton is almost palpable. It feels like the one chink in her armor. Her Achilles heel. Which, through time, hard work, genius strategy and pure back-breaking discipline, she turned into a strength. The so-called “Clinton machine”, now newly empowered with the addition of Chelsea Clinton, seems invincible. And this is largely due to Hillary.
Still, she, understandably, did not tackle the stigma attached to women who however powerful, wonderful, beautiful they may be, are, in the eyes of the world, divested of their attributes just because their husband got silly.
For a season or two, it seemed as if a fictional character, Alicia Florrick of the “Good Wife”, would become the role model women needed to liberate themselves of the stigma of being the beleaguered wife. She didn’t. Half way through inept politicking, erratic standing by her renegade husband, switching jobs like pantsuits, she also turned into a sex freak—which, alas, proved to be only an inner trigger for her profound, overwhelming love and need for yet another man: the enigmatic Jason.
And then Beyonce, the real Queen of America, came along. With her “Lemonade” album. Making lemonade out of lemons, she quotes Jay Z’s grandmother, while seamlessly expressing her rage (at him?) for cheating on her.
For the first time, because of Beyonce’s guts, charisma, fame, breathtaking beauty and sex appeal, and talent to channel her experience into Art, the betrayed woman has become, in the eyes of men and women alike, a goddess. And the cheating man in question, even though still loved and forgiven, appears simply ridiculous. 

My beloved terrorist
Published by: LIVANIS
First printing: 2001
Pages: 403
Hellenists: Greece does not wound them
Published by: LIVANIS
First printing: 1999
Pages: 314


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