Weekend at Hillary’s, a Tragicomedy About Lying Enablers and a White House Campaign By Charles Hurt
Sure, it looked like a scene out of Weekend at Bernie’s. At first glance, anyway.
Strange purplish sunglasses concealing dead, hooded eyes. Pantsuit as vibrant as a sack of spoiled potatoes tipped against a bollard. Helmet of hair toggling as aides hoist and jostle her feet-first — one shoe on, one shoe off into the security van with tinted windows.