I recently fell in love with Kellyanne Conway. That’s partly because she is now the most powerful woman in the world. Forget Hillary – her boat is sunk. As for Theresa May and Angela Merkel, Brexit has ensured they are soo 2016.
It’s mind-blowing how Kellyanne Conway rose into the stratosphere. After assuming the impossible task of transforming Ted Cruz from a pig’s ear into a silk purse, she became Donald Trump’s chief advisor – and the first woman ever to run a Republican general election presidential campaign.
It’s worth remembering that when she took over last August, every expert had written off Trump. She became ‘the Trump Whisperer’, and steered him to the White House. As proof that this extraordinary lady walks in the grace of God and has fate on her side, she turned 50 on the same day as she celebrated her boss’s inauguration.
Kellyanne’s story is an American fairytale. An only child, she was brought up by her mother, grandmother and two unmarried aunts in a poor town in New Jersey. She became the first person in her family to go to college. She graduated magna cum laude from Trinity College in Washington DC. She broadened her horizons taking a post-graduate course at Oxford University in England.
Back in America, she turned her life into a work of art. She earned a law degree with honors from George Washington University Law School (although she now describes herself, heartwarmingly, as a “recovered attorney”.) She went on to found The Polling Company, turning the firm into a multi-million dollar success.
Focusing on DC’s conservative elite, her corporate clients included the National Rifle Association, American Express, and, most enticingly, Vaseline. Her private clients included a laundry list of political A-listers: Jack Kemp, Newt Gingrich, Mike Pence, and the actor/Senator Fred Thompson who, in a period of regrettable loneliness, she reportedly dated but then dumped.
Kellyanne established a virtuoso work-life balance. She gave birth to four children, including twins, and created an oasis of a home in New Jersey far away from the swamp of DC.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not just her success and wisdom that won my heart. It’s her body. She is, and has always been, a total fox.
Growing up in England, my first erotic fantasy was of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. Twenty-five years later, after moving to America, I began having similar romantic fantasies about then-Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. She was playing Mozart piano concertos to me in the dark. So powerful was Dr. Rice’s hold on me that I spent three years making a feature-length movie about her, Courting Condi.
So it was very logical that I recently fell in love with Kellyanne Conway.
When she was 16, and I was a 13-year-old at Eton College, Kellyanne won the New Jersey Blueberry Princess pageant. To prove she wasn’t just a pretty face, she went on to win, at the age of 20, the World Champion Blueberry Packing competition. She had spent eight long summers packing blueberries on a farm to win that prize and was rightfully honored as the fastest packer.
Thirty years after winning that award, her body is still as breathtaking as ever. In her own words, “my broad mind and small waist have not switched places”. To gaze at her now is to behold pure beauty. She is slender as a naked grain of wheat. Her eyes bloom like blue violets. Her spun-gold hair has been reincarnated from Veronica Lake. And her chin – ahh that chin — as powerful as the prow of the Titanic.
She studied at Oxford around the time I was living there, directing an outdoors production of Romeo and Juliet. Might she have seen it? Why did our stars not cross then?
Her dress sense is bold, feminine and enlightened. My blood ran south when she appeared on Inauguration day in a Gucci, red-white- and-blue, revolution-chic coat. Clenching a Louis Vuitton bag into her red leather gloves, she looked like the love child of Christie Brinkley and the Marquis de Lafayette.
Kellyanne’s sassiness is a big part of her appeal. She has no qualms about kneeling, in high-heeled shoes and full view of the White House press corps, on the gold-trimmed Oval Office sofa.
Sure, she assumed this position for partly professional reasons. She was throwing the press a story that distracted them from what her boss was really doing. And she eased the anxiety of the African- American university leaders who were selling their souls for a presidential hand-shake.
There was another, more personal message I took from her sensual legs tucked beneath her buttocks, her thighs parted just wide enough to dissolve restraint, and breach the dam of my imagination. Oh, sweet bird of lightning, what I would give to kneel at thy knees!
The weapons of love in Kellyanne’s arsenal are devastating. Take her wink – the cheeky scud missile with which she disarms every arrogant male TV host. It’s like a New Jersey butterfly’s wing fluttering to cause a nuclear explosion in North Korea. Marilyn Monroe never delivered a wink of this power.
When I tell my friends about my physical adoration of Kellyanne Conway, they say I am “perverted” or “creepy” – and that I should certainly not admit to it in public. Other friends judged my feelings to be “sexist.” I found these to be curious objections, when those same critics spent hours making hackneyed jokes about Donald Trump’s hair, skin, hands and penis.
But I want to be clear. It’s not just her killer body that I dream of. It’s her mind. Kellyanne is one scrumptiously smart cookie. To become and remain the consigliera to a capo di capi like Donald Trump shows real smarts. She has a deadly wit that makes mincemeat of whimpering Democrats. A super-savvy pundette, she’s the world’s greatest deflector of tough questions.
She’s the philosopher queen of provocation and disruption. Take her theory on “alternative facts”. In a nutshell, this posits that truth is relative, and every observer’s claim to knowledge is equally legitimate. This is an even more iconoclastic epistemological theory than Donald Rumsfeld’s “known unknowns” hypothesis. It has inspired a national wave of interest in political philosophy.
Because Kellyanne’s “alternative facts” theory made an implicit reference to the government-invented language in George Orwell’s 1984, the novel leapt to top of the bestseller list on Amazon.com. The book’s publisher, Penguin, ordered a 75,000 copy reprint. Thank you, Kellyanne, for inspiring millennials to shut down their screens, and open a book!
Kellyanne is a woman of both ideas and action. Her public policy pedigree is important because she has the ear of Donald Trump. If anyone can persuade him to moderate or abandon his more hare-brained schemes, it is Kellyanne.
That’s especially true if we are to believe the mainstream media’s portrait of Donald Trump as a sexist pig. His main advisor is now a woman. A woman who was brought up by women; a woman who founded a polling company called Women Trend; a woman who wrote a book called What Women Really Want. (I hope, in her case, it will soon be me); and a woman who is bringing up three young women.
But her critics say that that she’s a traitor to women. It’s true that Kellyanne does not identify as a “feminist”. She has reluctantly described herself as a “post-feminist” and as a “conservative feminist”, and has said she believes more in femininity than feminism. Her very clear position is that feminism is unhelpful and divisive.
In her own words: “I consider myself a post-feminist. I consider myself one of those women who is a product of her choices, not a victim of her circumstances.”
I swoon at this pragmatic and progressive manifesto for the future of gender relations. The pendulum of power between the sexes has swung too far from equality. Young men on college campuses are wearing go-pro cameras on dates, for fear of life-destroying false rape accusations.
Incentivized by the federal government’s sexist financial incentive schemes, family courts across the country are giving custody to women in 90% of cases. Those same judges consider women as innocent even when proven guilty, and men as guilty until proven innocent. Twenty-four million American children are now growing up without a father. Thank God Hillary Clinton was not allowed to become castrator-in- chief!
Kellyanne is restoring sanity to the relationship between boys and girls. She is critical of “the progressive, liberal orthodoxy that has every woman constantly thinking about abortion, contraception, being a victim of the patriarchy.” Her vision is “an alternative of fun, engaging accomplished women“.
The applause she receives at conferences shows she is striking a chord, no more so when she recently stated: “I will tell my three daughters, your daughters or you, that the job of first female president of the United States remains open, so go for it.”
Hurling these statements to the cutting-room floor, news shows and late-night comedians have created a myth that Kellyanne wants to strip all women of their reproductive nights. Cable-TV comedienne Samantha Bee recently said that, thanks to Kellyanne, it will be “the alley behind our studio where women will be getting their abortions a year from now.”
Alternative Fact! Pants-on-fire!
Kellyanne has never called for abortions to be illegalized, or for Roe vs Wade to be overturned. What she has done is to stop Donald Trump talk about “punishing women” for having an abortion. Not once since she took over as campaign manager has Trump repeated that threat. She has articulated her moderate, thoughtful position on this explosive issue both clearly and honestly.
Kellyanne is also our best hope of neutralizing what the mainstream media characterize as Trump’s xenophobia. She is the grand-daughter of immigrants. Like me, her father is of Irish origin, and her maiden name is Fitzpatrick. Her mother is Italian. I would like to urge her to follow her conscience and do all she can to make Trump quietly forget his twisted dreams of walls and Muslim bans.
She is the Empress of Loyalty. When her friends are going through hard times, she stands by them, even at personal cost to herself. Look at what she did for Ivanka Trump, when her business was in trouble. She went on national TV to say, “Go buy Ivanka’s stuff. It’s a wonderful line. I own some of it. Go buy it today, everybody.”
No matter that she was breaking every ethical rule in the White House book or risking her job- and possibly her liberty. She had a buddy to stand up for, and nothing would stop her doing that.
Give the dame a break! She’s juggling being a mom of four, a TV superstar, and the most powerful woman on earth. It breaks my heart to hear the hatred directed at her. The media’s assault makes the ‘lock-her- up’ attacks on Hillary Clinton look like Sesame Street.
Doesn’t it bother me, my friends say, that she is a hypocrite? How can she work for someone she used to despise? They send me Youtube montages of how, when working for Ted Cruz, Kellyanne criticized candidate Donald Trump as “not a conservative…fairly unpresidential.”
The simple answer to this is that her day job is as a politician. They all spin and flip-flop. Remember how Hillary Clinton spent all of 2008 vilifying Barack Obama and then became his best friend when he appointed her Secretary of State?
Then my pals plead with me: What about her outright lies? Again, they send me clips of that dreadful Bee woman saying that “we haven’t seen a blond do this much spinning and lying since Tonya Harding”.
The incident most cited as evidence that Kellyanne is a fibber is her use of the term ‘Bowling Green massacre’. In a CNN interview about Trump’s executive order on immigration, she implied that two Iraqi refugees had perpetrated atrocities in Kentucky.
Her use of the word ‘massacre’ was a naughty exaggeration. The actual event involved the arrest of two Iraqi refugees who had pleaded guilty for carrying out attacks on US soldiers in Iraq. CNN and other networks leapt on her mis-statement, and blew it up into an outrage.
But they gave little airtime to the legitimate, underlying point that Kellyanne was making: America faces a grave threat from Islamist jihadists. 9/11 and Orlando are proof of that. And they gave even less coverage when, the day after her mis-statement, Kellyanne retracted the term “massacre.”
My friends and the media were quick to lol her her “astonishingly stupid” assertion that cameras hidden in microwaves might have been planted in Trump Tower to spy on her boss. More double standards! Those same haters treated as absolute truth the recent Wikileaks warning that the CIA has used Samsung TVs to ogle American citizens. Surely, it is technically possible for any electro-domestic device to be turned into a surveillance device? Kellyanne was making a valid point about our privacy in an age of “the internet of things.”
Kellyanne Conway is the Blond Goddess, with a lineage stretching back to the Greek deity, Hera. I detect shades of so many screen goddesses in her. When she walks on stage, I see Ursula Andress coming out of the ocean in Dr No. She has the guile and cunning of Iago and the lean and hungry look of Cassius. She is Robert Duvall’s Tom Hagen in The Godfather and Queen Elizabeth II’s brutally efficient private secretary, Tommy Vascelles, in The Crown.
Feminazis and politically correct executives in Hollywood have tried to exterminate the blonde bombshell from our screens. But Kellyanne has brought her back — with a sense of humor.
Please, Cupid, fire that arrow at Kellyanne’s heavenly heart…