Not a GA item, but go through the 25 pictures at the source, it will brighten your day!
Random notes while skimming article:
- “...Hillary and Bill Clinton on their floor at the top of The Peninsula hotel, a five-star facility a block from Trump Tower”
Cocky, preparing to gloat over the opponent’s inevitable loss, never considering that she might have to stare at the winner’s luxury skyscraper _home_ mere feet from her briefly-rented abode (wherein one wouldn’t want a blacklight).
- “Clinton’s campaign anthem, “Fight Song,” blared across the room”
That sums her problem up as well as anything: generic, no spark. They needed a fight song to rally around ... so they picked “Fight Song”. Golly. How. Inspiring.
- “No one in the party had a better feel for the state than Schale, ... who had worked on the Draft Biden campaign in 2015”
The best poll wrangler the campaign had pushed for gaffe-o-matic BIDEN? If your best is deranged, it won’t go well.
- “Hillary sat stone-faced, trying to process the unexpected and abrupt reversal of her fortunes”
Calm before the storm. Her life’s work crumbling, her standard demeanor “angry control-freak b!tch”, ... when she goes quiet, flee.
- “[Noting Brexit, Bill had] seen the trans-Atlantic phenomenon of populist rage at rallies across the country, and warned friends privately of his misgivings about its effect on Hillary’s chances”
Did he bother warning _Hillary_?!? Crashing vote number is rather a late point to bring up the point of “oh, by the way, your opponent is getting 1000-to-1 rally numbers over yours”.
- “The president wants you to concede, Mook told her”
There’s a great ultra-slow-motion video of a bullet hitting a glass pane.
There’s a Simpson’s frame-by-frame clip of “you can see the moment his heart breaks”.
There’s a video showing a single frame where a manhole cover is launched into space as the fastest man-made object ever.
This is where that moment occurs.
- “I’m not ready to go give this speech.”
And, Hillary, that’s the moment you proved, objectively beyond all doubt, that you’re not presidential material.
- ““Congratulations, Donald,” she said”
And so her icy heart shattered.
- “Abedin approached her once again, phone in hand. ... “Mr. President,” [Hillary] said softly. “I’m sorry.””
And so ends the abridgment of the book, utterly failing to mention what we all know: that having had her life’s goal utterly destroyed by a Cheeto-haired fast-talking reality-show-host political couldn’t-be-more-outsider, she went bat$#!^-crazy in ways none of her staff, nor the hotel cleanup crew, will ever discuss.