“I looked at the Rorschach blot. I tried to pretend it looked like a spreading tree, shadows pooled beneath it, but it didn’t. It looked more like a dead cat I once found, the fat, glistening grubs writhing blindly, squirming over each other, frantically tunneling away from the light. But even that is avoiding the real horror. The horror is this: In the end, it is simply a picture of empty meaningless blackness. We are alone. There is nothing else.” Ok, I’m not that ’round the bend. But I have to admit, when I saw this picture of Sen. Clinton on Drudge today, this immediately came to mind:
Oddly enough, the same exact thing happened a few weeks ago when this oft-used pic instantly reminded me of this.
Or is it just me?
As a disclaimer, unlike Republicans and denizens of Halloweenland — I’ll stand by that one — I’m not comparing Sen. Clinton to Linda Blair’s secret admirer or a psychotic, snazzily-dressed mass-murderer here. In fact, I think Drudge’s tendency to post unflattering pics of Hillary and Chelsea Clinton is often cruel, juvenile, and bordering on sexist (if not plunging right past that border.) So, this is not meant as a comment on Clinton per se, only on the implicit associations made by my impressionable fanboy subconscious, which would seem to trump slightly the findings of my Implicit Association Test. (And, in my defense, at least I wasn’t so irredeemably geeky as to come up with Tasha Yar.)
