Look again. It was a question not a statement. Actually, in the run for the 08 US presidency it excites me that she is going for it. Sure, Im a Brit and I don’t have a say..and nor would I probably vote for her anyway. But, I’m glad she is going for it. Does she have a chance?
Who is she? The first former First Lady to go on to hold elected office, she is now serving as senator for New York. Declared her intention to stand with an “I’m in” note on her website on 20 January.
 Hillary Clinton
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Why take her seriously? Unbeatable name recognition and unmatched fundraising ability make Hillary – no surname necessary – the clear front-runner for the Democrats. She has tried to stake out a position as a centrist in her six years in the Senate – and finished her 2006 Senate re-election campaign with $20m in the bank.
What is going to stand in her way? If Bill Clinton remains a divisive figure in American politics, that goes at least double for Hillary – some estimates say one in three Americans would never vote for her. And the US has never yet elected a woman president.
What would happen if a female won?
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No vote for her from me. Obama FTW.
Who, out of the potential winners, do you think will provide (if at all) a realistic, if not definate, exit strategy from Iraq? Is this an important issue at present, considering the foreign policy of the US in accordance with the ongoing lack of home policy (poverty, immigration, education etc, etc)?
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And the crowd goes wild!
The wildest of the crowd is then immediately apprehended by undercover security and escorted briskly into a back room. They were never seen again.
And the crowd doesnt notice….except that small Japenese kid with the fingernail sized digital camera, snapping inadvertantly at the goings on, never knowing the consequences of his shot as the gaze of the dark suited government thug falls upon him.
He then wakes up in the small cell that contains him and his confidence. The mini digital camera was just a figment of his childhood. He remembers, he was born here.
Whilst newborn a photgraphic memory chip had been inplanted into his soft, developing skull. This was why he could remember his place of birth. But, it had been a traumatic affair. He had blocked it out, or at least his memory had. Stress overwhelms him now. His mother is not the mother he grew up to know. And why here anyway? He figures he is some sort of real life Jason Bourne project and decides he must have abilities and skills lying dorment within his mind. Focus lad, focus! Running full pelt towards the door he crashes shoulder first into the metal. The pain of impact shocks him whole and he bounces his head off the frame. Knocked out. Clean out.
Two men enter. He is dragged off to a van. The van has “IKEA” written upon it.
“Finally!” says Mr. Strathmore. He mustn’t be left alone again. He is a danger to himself and our plan. Keep him in his room and keep him sedated. We dont want this to happen again.
Off he was carried by the two men to his room. It was a stark room, filled with a mishmash of IKEA furniture. The sedative was injected and he then lost any amount of semi-consciousness he had. The last thing he heard was the creak of the ‘hidden door’, which on this side of the wall, was the wall of the room.
Strathmore cursed the egg yoke stain on his underpants. ‘These bloody budget cuts!’ he mused out loud, as he dabbed himself down.
It wasnt easy trying to undermine the governement and conceal himself from Investigating agencies when the only attire he had these days was a pair of socks enstitched with the logo of his evil and maniacal employer. Even his pants he had to put hard laundered cash towards because the faction was trying to ‘save money’ for other projects.
‘That bloody kid with his camera. And on my day off too!”, Strath mumbled. ‘Never did get that day back for working christmas.”
He thought again of his wife. Who was she? That was the problem with these secret hardcore groups. No one really knew who anyone else was. All Strath knew was his wife had something seriously obsessive about flat packed furniture and scatter cushions.
‘But why here, and now?’ he said.
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