NY Daily News: Camelot must be Gaelic for chutzpah.
By Uppity Woman on December 29, 2008 at 9:10 AM in Caroline Kennedy
Ok Ok, bear with me here. The Caroline crap just keeps sliding off the walls! How can you expect Uppity to pass this “stuff” up?
Under the byline, “Say Good Night, Caroline,” what more is there to say?
In the beginning, just three long weeks ago, the idea of Caroline Kennedy being a United States senator had a certain ring to it. The Camelot myth still has shelf life and a merger with the historic Obama presidency provided an intriguing story line.
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Some top Democrats were certain Gov. Paterson, a close-to-the vest electorate of one, would find Kennedy irresistible now and as a running mate in two years. All others were chopped liver next to her sudden star power.
But a strange thing is happening on the way to the coronation. The wheels of the bandwagon are coming off. Fantasy is giving way to inescapable truth.
That truth is that Kennedy is not ready for the job and doesn’t deserve it. Somebody who loves her should tell her.
Her quest is becoming a cringe-inducing experience, as painful to watch as it must be to endure. Because she is the only survivor of that dreamy time nearly 50 years ago, she remains an iconic figure. But in the last few days, her mini-campaign has proved she has little to offer New Yorkers except her name.
Her handlers and family enablers insist she feels no entitlement to the Senate job, yet there is no other possible reason to give it to her. Her name is the sole reason she even dares go for it. Camelot must be Gaelic for chutzpah.
New York can do better.
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!!
Now come on Caroline.
You were a really cute little “First Daughter”. Seriously.
I know your father died a horrible senseless death. I have seen some horrible senseless deaths in my own family, so I am with you there. I know you are without parents. So am I. So are plenty of people. But we have to grow up and make our own way, Caroline. Even if our name is “Kennedy”.
New York is in enough shit already, Caroline.
Get thee onto your pony and leave this job to somebody who can do it and actually wants to do it.
Tell Uncle Teddy you are sorry, but he isn’t going to use you to engrave his Monarchy into American government for eternity. It is increasingly clear that he put you up to this. Explain to him that, in the end, he is just a man. Tell him to make some more important, less self-absorbed efforts at his own Peace. Like say, with Mary Jo. Tell him, you are sorry but this isn’t for you. Then people can stop counting how many times you say, “I mean, “Like, you know…”. We are all starting to feel sorry for you, Caroline, and this is not a good position for JFK’s daughter to be in, is it?
Listen, sister: Go to the Met and take in La Boheme tomorrow. The Magic Flute starts Tuesday. Two Knockouts you shouldn’t miss. I would kill for your seats, girl!
Redecorate the penthouse. “Write” another book that consists of other people’s writings. Lend your name to a couple of worthy causes that don’t require you to be articulate. Go do what you really want to do: Help Bloomberg change the Term Limits law. Why, a couple of nice cocktail parties and you will be good to go, sister! You go girl! You go away, girl!






















