POLITICSnBilly in thenLowgroundnhy ]anet Scott BarlownV/ou may look bad, Bill, but wenX look just plaiu stupid.” That wasnthe wounded and furious summation ofnWashington Post columnist Richard Cohennupon Bill Clinton’s inglorious exitnfrom the presidency. Many cjuestions arenraised by that single sentence from a lonenwriter, the first being: Who is the “we”nCohen referred to? His answer: We isn”me and ever’one else who has ever defendedn[Clinton].”nAh, already we’re gethng somewhere,nalthough it’s not where Richard Cohennwould take us. For the fact is that Clintonndefenders have never been only Clintonndefenders. They are part of a largerncollective and are identifiable as such.nThey are the liberal establishment, thenmedia and political elite. And since thenself-assumed intellectual superiority ofnevery liberal elite precludes, above allnelse, stupidit)’, and—at the same time —nthe life’s purpose of all liberal elites is tonpoint out the stupidity of others, it followsnthat the mother of all nightmares for anynelite liberal is to find himself in RichardnCohen’s position, i.e., looking stupid.nFor eight years, liberals responded to thentruism “We are known by the companynwe keep” by redefining Bill Clinton, atnevery turn, as worthy of association. Theynare now surprised to discover that Clinton’snbehavior ended up defining them.nWhat dopes.nBut they are dopes in misery, nonetheless.nAnd if it’s Bill Clinton who is responsiblenfor their suffering, you can betnthe Spode china it’s Bill Clinton who willnpay. It is one thing to have adulterous sexnin the Oval Office, to lie under oath, tonsuborn perjury, and to obstruct justice.nIt’s another thing altogether to make thenRichard Cohens of the world look stupid.nThe first series of actions is debatable andntherefore defensible, while the secondnpart, the stupid stuff. . . well, you tr’ thatnone, mister, and you’re dead meat.n42/CHRONICLESnVITAL SIGNSnThere are standards at stake here, afternall: You may be dishonest but not tacky;nimmoralit)’ is relative, but bad taste is not.nValues come and go, but st)’le is eternal.nLike no other figure in living memor’.nBill Clinton brought into high relief thentwo opposing worldviews into whichnAmericans are often divided. The firstngroup is made up of people who believenthat behavior is identit)’ (a man who tellsnlies is a liar) and character is destiny (indecentnpeople generate indecency). Thensecond grouj) believes that identit)’ determinesnbehavior (smart people don’t donstupid things) and destiny is a validationnof character (a baby-boomer Democratnwho rises to the presidency is, ipso facto, anperson of positive substance). Withinnthis second group there exists a subset, ancollection of graying and bifocalednboomer hipsters who approach politicsnarmed only with the standards of popularnculture and the yardstick of celebrit}’. It isntheir self-appointed task to judge a givennpolitician’s hip quotient—which, in thencase of Bill Clinton, they immediatelyndetermined, in joyful delirium, to benquite as high as their own.nThis hipster subset has been easily asnaffected by Bill Clinton’s ups and downsnas have the hvo main groujjs. For them,nClinton was a gift straight from boomernheaven, what with his affinity for moviesn(not to mention movie stars), all the Elvisnbusiness, and, of course, that dumb saxophone.nThrough Clinton, the hipstersnwere able both to cling to their youth andnto ease vicariously into a really cool middlenage.nBut despite all that clinging and easing,nthe hipsters are now suffering nearlynas much as Richard Cohen. After projectingnthe image of their most desirablenselves, both personally and generationally,nonto Bill Clinton—after, that is, fishingnfor years in highly polluted waters —nthey are now shocked to discover thatnthey have reeled in nothing but tin cansnand old shoes. To them, it doesn’t muchnmatter what Bill did. The importantnthing is that his image, and thereforentheir image, suffered in the ]3rocess. Onnthe day he left office, Clinton granted anpresidential pardon to an unrepentant,ntax-cheating, fugitive crook, and henhogged the limelight with a series ofngraceless speeches. Question; Which actionnwas worse? Don’t laugh. If you oncennnbelieved that Bill Clinton was destinednfor presidential greatness because henshared your political origins (the 60’s) asnwell as your pop-culture fixations, it cannbe really tough (especially while surroimdednby tin cans and old shoes) tonweigh genuine corruption against absolutentackiness.nMere weeks into the post-Clinton era,nthe resounding question from all elitenC|uarters was “Will it ever end?” And withnthe dawn of each new day came the answer:nDon’t hold your breath. Imagine, forninstance, the shudder that went throughnthe liberal establishment upon learningnthat the first media figure through whichnBill Clinton chose to defend his lastminutenpresidential actions was that lowrentnjournalist and full-time sensationalist,nCeraldo Rivera. Rivera’s scoop: Clintonnwas “bewildered,” “stressed out,” and, yes,n”hurt.” Think of it: Just Bill and Ceraldo, ancouple of misunderstood guys feeling eachnother’s pain via cell phone. The unambiguousnshabbiness of it was enough to giventhe entire liberal ]30wer struchire a case ofnthe vapors. (Wliat? Fle’s calling Ceraldo?nOh, God, you’re kidding, right?) In realit)’,nof course, the only suqjrising thing aboutnthe Clinton/Rivera chat is the fact thatnAmerica possesses technolog}’ sufficient tonhandle the simultaneous transmission ofnthe world’s two most overheated egos (thatnis, the phones didn’t melt).nBill and Hillar}’ Clinton (and how cannwe discuss one without discussing thenother?) are in a new and possibly deadlynkind of trouble: Each is now afflictednwith what was once Hie other’s problem.nBill’s problem is that he no longer holdsnelective office. Hillaiy’s problem is thatnshe now does.nBill Clinton sought the presidency becausenit is the world’s bluest stage. Wiatnis obvious now is that he regarded thenstage as portable — something he couldnpack up and take with him, unfolding itnfor use as the spirit moved him for the restnof his natural life. That is such an exquisitelyngauche assumption, such a traumaticallynembarrassing spectacle, that it hasnbrought liberals, hipster subset and all, tona point of crisis. Without the mantle andnthe trappings of the presidency, Bill Clintonnis just a deluded narcissist, preeningnfor love and grubbing for money upon hisnimaginar)’ stage. W’liat the elites once sawnas fascinating—the complex psychologyn