The psychodynamics of Hillary's arf-arf

Time and again, Hillary Clinton says and does things that indicate she is out of touch with her environment and the people around her.  In a recent demonstration of insensitivity, she loudly yapped like a dog at a campaign rally.  Why is she impervious to the offensiveness of her words and destructiveness of her actions?  The answer lies in adult developmental psychology.

Hillary Clinton lived her life in a manner that did not require her to mature psychologically, morally, intellectually, or functionally.  Psychology explains that neither a nation nor an individual advances during a crisis.  A nation at war does not call for a constitutional convention.  An embattled individual in crisis learns only the skills relevant to overcoming the enemy and surviving the crisis.

Hillary Clinton has spent her adult life at war, rumbling over political terrain in a heavily armed battle tank, seeing life through the periscope.  People don't mature from their successes; they learn from being honest with themselves about their failures and correcting the errors which caused the mistakes to happen.  This is why Hillary has learned so little from life.  The Clintons protect themselves, trust no one, always persevere, and prevail over enemies.  There have been many political war machines, but the greatest of these is the Clintons.  The Clintons never fail.

A psychotherapeutic formula subtracts the years spent intoxicated or in crisis from chronological age to figure psychological maturity.  By that reckoning, Hillary would be about 20, a dork in thick glasses who thinks it clever to twang about not standin' by her man and to make animal noises.

Some people feel alive only when they are fighting, and some families lurch from crisis to crisis, only feeling connected when it's time to raise bail.  The Clintons are the world's preeminent political juggernaut, waging a permanent campaign that protects them from honestly facing themselves or each other.

Hillary shrieked, “What difference at this point does it make?” from the deep emptiness of considering direct subordinates as hindrances on the field of battle to be clambered over.  Most responsible people painfully remember when they had to fire subordinates.  If employees were actually murdered in the workplace, it would be a devastating trauma to any leader.  But not to Hillary.  The “What's the big deal about Benghazi?” outburst may have been a political strategy, but it was also a robotic reaction from a chief who wasn't especially sleep-deprived or grief-stricken, but who long ago accepted the costs of doing business.

Hillary's humanity seems to emerge when she is face to face with a woman of her own cohort.  Then she pauses for a moment, allows herself one brief breath before returning to the battle.  In those encounters she appears to be looking into a mirror.  Reflected in the glowing eyes of a nameless sister, Hillary momentarily glimpses the woman she might have been.

Time and again, Hillary Clinton says and does things that indicate she is out of touch with her environment and the people around her.  In a recent demonstration of insensitivity, she loudly yapped like a dog at a campaign rally.  Why is she impervious to the offensiveness of her words and destructiveness of her actions?  The answer lies in adult developmental psychology.

Hillary Clinton lived her life in a manner that did not require her to mature psychologically, morally, intellectually, or functionally.  Psychology explains that neither a nation nor an individual advances during a crisis.  A nation at war does not call for a constitutional convention.  An embattled individual in crisis learns only the skills relevant to overcoming the enemy and surviving the crisis.

Hillary Clinton has spent her adult life at war, rumbling over political terrain in a heavily armed battle tank, seeing life through the periscope.  People don't mature from their successes; they learn from being honest with themselves about their failures and correcting the errors which caused the mistakes to happen.  This is why Hillary has learned so little from life.  The Clintons protect themselves, trust no one, always persevere, and prevail over enemies.  There have been many political war machines, but the greatest of these is the Clintons.  The Clintons never fail.

A psychotherapeutic formula subtracts the years spent intoxicated or in crisis from chronological age to figure psychological maturity.  By that reckoning, Hillary would be about 20, a dork in thick glasses who thinks it clever to twang about not standin' by her man and to make animal noises.

Some people feel alive only when they are fighting, and some families lurch from crisis to crisis, only feeling connected when it's time to raise bail.  The Clintons are the world's preeminent political juggernaut, waging a permanent campaign that protects them from honestly facing themselves or each other.

Hillary shrieked, “What difference at this point does it make?” from the deep emptiness of considering direct subordinates as hindrances on the field of battle to be clambered over.  Most responsible people painfully remember when they had to fire subordinates.  If employees were actually murdered in the workplace, it would be a devastating trauma to any leader.  But not to Hillary.  The “What's the big deal about Benghazi?” outburst may have been a political strategy, but it was also a robotic reaction from a chief who wasn't especially sleep-deprived or grief-stricken, but who long ago accepted the costs of doing business.

Hillary's humanity seems to emerge when she is face to face with a woman of her own cohort.  Then she pauses for a moment, allows herself one brief breath before returning to the battle.  In those encounters she appears to be looking into a mirror.  Reflected in the glowing eyes of a nameless sister, Hillary momentarily glimpses the woman she might have been.