The world skidded to a halt Thursday when the Medway Golf Club, in Melbourne, australia, declined the former President's request for immediate play – believing the crude and outlandish demand to be a hoax - that he be allowed to cut in line with the full panoply of his traveling entourage during the hectic mid-week championships. a rebuffed and chastened Clinton, it was reported, slunk off to muscle his way in at the neighboring, and his second choice, Lakes Golf Club at Point Cook, where, it appears, the membership was far more understanding of the social gaffes attached to the poor taste involved in the strident demands. Point Cook's management, noted for their imperturbability and their vows of discretion, kept the actual number of mulligans, lost tees, injured Wallabies, missing flags, broken clubs and balls used by quixotic Clinton caravan under their collective hats. Perhaps Mr Clinton should stick more exclusively to the Clinton money machine and pay less attention to the terror on the links.
Bill Clinton, who is wont to describe a childhood bereft of everything except the pitfalls of grinding poverty, is today a premier fixture on the upscale lecture circuit, where he commands fees of $130,000 or so for his notoriously long winded valedictories on most anything, from soup to nuts. He can also charge in excess of $1,300 for a handshake, depending upon its duration and force and the intensity of the look accompanying the ligature, some $5,000 for a brief sit down in the same room with an accompanying discussion of finite length and some $100,000 for an avuncular dinner meeting – all of which is due and payable in advance. Bill Clinton of Hope, arkansas, has become a bona fide member of america's highest income bracket, which he is quick to point out to anyone within earshot – for a specified fee.
But while Mr Clinton is busily traveling the world filling up his money bin with what he professes to be work, his crack production teams are said to be constructing new means to generate additional income as a result of the former President's amazing 24 hour a day drawing power and a recognition that he can earn money while he sleeps.
The latest Clinton web site is now under construction and is said to contain the very latest in 3-D animation, special effects and top Hollywood thrills. Here visitors, for a sliding fee, calculated by means of a linear programming model – which itself may be purchased - payable by credit card, PayPal, Krugerrands, direct inter-bank transfer, a sufficient number of baled rupees in an insured package, DM, Pounds Sterling, Euros, or other valid means of payment - though no personal checks, please - may obtain memberships for an hour, a day, a week or a year. Once inside, the members may choose to examine the Clinton Library without actually going there – a decided advantage to many, who fear to tread the unwholesome side streets of Little Rock – and purchase a hat, a t-shirt or a bobble headed doll. While browsing they may also gaze at the perpetually running Clinton Money Counter which, like the National Debt Meter, continuously spirals up, day and night – and view the bump caused by the specie they are pumping into Mr Clinton's burgeoning coffers. and, of course, they can also see Clinton's itinerary, see pictures of his boyhood home, the first casino he ever entered and fan mail from folks just like them, posted from attu, St. albans and Kyzyl.
The long term discussions about Mr Clinton's apprentice are being brought to fruition. Imagine the fun that Mr Clinton, and of course we all, will have as he interviews men and women to assist him in his endeavours as he jet sets from golf course to speaking engagement, from trendy hair salon to his Harlem office, from quay side to Las Vegas. Thrill to the thrifty banter as Mr Clinton hones in on a chink in a promising candidate's armor and marvel at his capacity for teary bathos as he clips another entrant short and orders them from the set – just as he did to so many of those troublesome military men during his late administration.
another revenue stream to be generated will be a new age Bill Clinton book on how to make money, produced in direct competition to that shoddy and half-baked tome by the wildly popular and decidedly populist Matthew Lesko, whose own dclass advertisement is seen on television every few moments. In the upcoming Clinton plan, his book, like Clinton himself, will be viewed more often than Lesko and will describe, in the same pedantic and minute detail that Mr Clinton used so successfully in the barn burning style of his memoirs, how to grab the money flow from governmental programs that even poor old Lesko doesn't know about – programs that Mr Clinton wrote all by himself, while awake in the wee hours over pizza with George Stephanopoulos in the Blue Room. and Bill will further elucidate on how he prepares for one of his rip snorting speeches abroad, how he gathers the facts needed to skewer President Bush and what is needed today to kow-tow to militant Islam. Bill will also demonstrate the various styles of money making handshakes, and the types of small group think that works best for putting the arm on the most easily impressionable among the attendees at a swanky liberal soiree.
The Clinton staff is also examining ways to generate money while the Big Man is asleep, and they're busily rigging up luxury sleeping quarters with an unobtrusive Clinton-cam to catch the master asleep. Here his lucid dreams and ramblings will be recorded and condensed and sold as either an on-demand cable feature or as a regular pay-television movie. Mr Clinton will be garbed in gaudy silk or cotton pyjamas and will roll around on 400 count percale sheets, so as not to offend the regular, family oriented folks this production is attempting to reach. Should this particular show catch on, later productions may take a step further to the left, for ever greater fees, of course, and payable as before.
Lastly, of course, will be the move into residuals, to further enhance the cash flow and to insure that Mr Clinton, like the Real McCoys, Ozzie and Harriet, Leave it to Beaver and The Little Prince, will live forever out there in the ether, and where, courtesy of satellite TV, Mr Clinton's distinctive visage and voice, will forever be pumped into darkest regions of outer space. Residuals will get Bill's clips, home movies, hip remonstrances on the perils of small business and small government, shots of his White House days, the talkies of his favorite parades, his damnations of the Republicans, the real reasons for his persecution and his lamentations at assorted funerals on pay television for anyone to see, and to pay him for them.
Imagine if you would, a family at dinner. "My land," cries the breadwinner, "Bill Clinton's on," as the clan rushes into the living room, swarming about, setting up tray tables, gathering their drinks, dusting off Bill Clinton's picture and running for their favorite chairs. The remote is wrestled away from the dog, the channel is selected, the account is quickly debited - with no argument form a long suffering wife – and the money cascades into Mr Clinton's account, where it appears as a sudden boost on his up-spiraling Money Counter. Bill's visage slowly and with gathering strength swims into view on their 36" Trinitron, in the privacy of this family's living room. "Is the TiVo recording?" cries the teenaged daughter, who will quickly download this latest Clinton video onto a DVD when the party's over and add it to her treasured collection, where it will join Bono, Dub Taylor and alf Landon, among her most treasured possessions.
Yep, it will be quite a bill of fare - money sluicing in, cash being piled in bales, long caravans of armored trucks carrying Mr Clinton's wealth to the bank, where a specially built vault, set on springs for stability, will be groaning under its weight. Bill Clinton has finally arrived.
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