The left can’t get enough of Bill Clinton.

That’s why Hillary and now, that’s why Chelsea.

In the National Review, Kevin Williamson begs – pleads – for American leftists to just drop it already. “Build Bill Clinton a statue or … whatever,” he writes. “But stop trying to inflict this empty-headed, grasping, sanctimonious, risible, simpering, saccharine little twerp on American public life.”

Democrats worship Bill Clinton, and that adulation turned into electing Hillary Clinton Senator from a state she didn’t even come from, Williamson writes.

Rather than send Bill Clinton into his dotage with a generous allowance of Viagra and interns, they gave his wife — his batty, corrupt, inept, corrupt, feckless, corrupt, preening, unbearable, corrupt, condescending, and corrupt wife — the Senate seat being vacated by Daniel Patrick Moynihan, the last good Democrat. She was elected to represent the state of New York in the Senate when she did not even live there, leading Moynihan to wryly praise her “Illinois-Arkansas enthusiasm.”

She was pretty ineffective in the Senate – with the exception of acquiring some pretty nice real estate.

It’s a good gig, being a senator. But that was not a big enough tribute to the Big Creep. And it wasn’t enough for Mrs. Creep, either, who had endured so much public humiliation in the cause of making NPR listeners feel good about themselves. She was running for president from the day she was seated in the Senate. But she could not close the deal. First, she got whipped in the primaries by a nobody back-bencher who answered her Illinois-Arkansas enthusiasm with his own Hawaii-Illinois cunning, in effect telling Democratic primary voters: “Okay, I’ll see your white woman and raise you a black guy.” So Mrs. Clinton became secretary of state. She was not very good at that.

And then, Williamson, she ran for president in 2016, barely edging out “Comrade Muppet” and losing to a “half-literate game show host.”

But – calling Bill Clinton the “Big Creep,” and seeing his wife is done, they’ve now turned to “Little Creep:” Chelsea.

Chelsea Clinton, most recently lionized on the cover of Vanity Fair, is a 37-year-old multi-millionaire who has never uttered an interesting word about any subject at any time during the course of her life. Judging from the evidence of her public statements, she has never had an original thought — it isn’t clear that she has had a thought at all. In tribute to her parents, she was given a series of lucrative sinecures, producing a smattering of sophomoric videos for NBC at a salary of $600,000 a year. She later went more formally into the family business, leaving her fake job at NBC for a fake job in her parents’ fake charity. She gave interviews about how she just couldn’t get interested in money and bought a $10 million Manhattan apartment that stretches for the better part of a city block.

And, since her mother’s most recent foray into ignominious defeat, she has been inescapable: magazine covers, fawning interviews, talk of running her in New York’s 17th congressional district. The Democrats are doing their best to make Chelsea happen.

And, who knows, it might work. It would be tempting to write her off as a know-nothing rich kid who has made a living off her family connections while operating one of the world’s most truly asinine Twitter accounts, but . . . well, you know.

But, for Pete’s sake, stop it. Have a little self-respect, Democrats. Build Bill Clinton a statue or . . . whatever. Send him your daughters like a bunch of bone-in-the-nose primitives paying tribute to the tribal chieftain. But stop trying to inflict this empty-headed, grasping, sanctimonious, risible, simpering, saccharine little twerp on American public life.

It’s stupid enough out there.

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