I have to once again defend myself from another partisan attack, this time by that well known conservative bastion, The New Yorker and it's hatchet wielding "columnist" Ryan Lizza. Has anyone noticed that the reporters who slam Hillary and I have last names ending in vowels? I am not inventing this, it is fact.

In his little hit piece, Mr. Lizza says:

Every story has seemed to reinforce an image of Clinton as a sort of ill-tempered coot driven a little mad by Obama’s success.

Then he quotes a mysterious adviser who chose to hide behing the cloak of anonymity.

“'I think this campaign has enraged him,” the adviser told me. “He doesn’t like Obama.”

It's not the I hate Barack, it's just that I don't understand his kind. But I am trying. I'm sure he's not all that different from the rest of us. In times of strife, he probably looks to the gods he worships; if he wins the nomination he'll be sworn in on the book of worship of his religion while wearing the pin of a country close to his heart. (Sudan?)

Yes America, Bubba has turned into that racist grandparent you are affraid to take to the Olive Garden for fear he'll call all the bus boys Pedro.