Blame life. Blame racism. Blame misogyny. Blame the Director of the FBI. Blame sex, lies and videotapes. Blame social media. Blame the great unwashed. Blame not only their hygiene but their appalling lack of education. Blame the 54% of white women who voted for a guy that jokes about dating his daughter and brags about casually groping complete strangers. Blame nationalism. Blame media bias. Blame the tilt of the world’s axis. Blame the callous, cunting disaster that 2016 has shown itself to be. Blame life. Just don’t blame Hillary Clinton…

…but why the fuck shouldn’t we blame Hillary?

It’s been a month since a man with no demonstrable plan of action (other than a spot of imported bricklaying, blanket xenophobia and a dogged neglect of pressing environmental issues) convinced America he’s the lesser of two evils. It suggested that the other one must be pretty fucking terrifying. Either that, or criminally negligent.

Maybe Trump is right and we should be banging her up after all. Not for all that email brouhaha; I myself know how tricky those servers can be and still can’t get Gmail to stop my messages running off the page like rats from a sinking campaign. Rather she should face trial for running what should have been the easiest presidential race in living memory into the ground in spectacular fashion… and as a result, lumping the whole world with a dangerously out-of-touch, megalomaniacal toupee as its new Commander-in-Chief.

Where did Hillary go wrong? Well, eschewing the advice of her philandering hubby (and Successful President of the United States, Might I Add) turns out not to have been the smartest move she could have made. From the get-go, Monica Lewinsky’s bit on the side heavily pushed a strategy of targeting disillusioned white males in rural communities, figuring that not all of them could be total morons. Hillary decreed otherwise and left these poor unfortunates to fester in the audacity of their ignorance, a decision that meant she lost more battlefield states than her war could ultimately stomach.

While there are certainly some Trumpites who were never going to be won round by Hillary’s icy charms, at least showing her fucking face in Wisconsin might have given them something to think about when they wanted to last longer in the sack. As it was, the state that had voted Democrat for the last 22 years decided that it was far better to be sodomised by the devil you know than the devil who doesn’t even bother to grace you with her presence, and voted accordingly.

As well as overlooking the importance of intense rallying in key swing states, it seems Mrs Clinton also skimped on actually compiling anything regarding an identity for her campaign; even the scare provided by geriatric leftie Bernie Sanders wasn’t enough to jolt the woman into action. Instead of offering change to a country that was so clearly crying out for it, Clinton towed the line of her predecessor and positioned herself as Obama Mark II (only older, whiter, slightly more feminine and significantly less down with da kidz). Even fans of the outgoing president must have been underwhelmed by her stunning lack of ambition, which made it all the easier for Trump to swoop into the breach and promise a bemused electorate the moon and more, all the while conveniently neglecting to explain how.

Indeed, the fact that Trump scooped the hottest seat in world politics without any actual plan, all the while offending as many sections of society as possible, draws an unmistakable line under the limp and lacklustre nature of Hillary’s campaign. As frail as the candidate herself during a brief tussle with pneumonia (in itself a horribly dated affliction to bring a campaign and its proponent to their knees), the Democrat’s push for the top job had less chutzpah and oomph than a turd sandwich. Trump, on the other hand, had both coming out of his orifices in unsettling quantities.

In a time when Americans were raging en masse against the establishment, Clinton opted to hide herself in plain sight by unabashedly donning the mantle of the very thing being raged against. Relying on the supposition that Trump’s obvious turpitude would be enough to win people round, she arrogantly and recklessly ran the campaign on autopilot, confident in the belief that simply not being The Donald would guarantee a waltz into the White House.

But despite his yolky complexion, the egg has well and truly ended up on Hillary’s face. Unfortunately, it’s going to fall to all of us to clear up the albumen…if, of course, there are any of us left to do so once the war-mongering, climate change-denying, minority-belittling, women-objectifying demagogue has had his fun.

The past month hasn’t done much to dull the pain. But maybe it’s best this way. Maybe we’re due a good purge. Maybe, in fact, we should be thanking Hillary. Thanks, Hillary.

Now, where did I put that skag?

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