NEW HAVEN — The driven hippie chick came back to Yale, with straight blond hair instead of frizzy brown,
and pumps instead of sandals. But she was still earnestly preaching 60's feminism and activism.

"Dare to care," Hillary Rodham Clinton (law '73) told the graduating seniors, observing that when she graduated from high school, Yale did not yet accept women. "We might have had A averages but we lacked a Y chromosome," she said.

The woman who backed up a truck to the White House to haul away appurtenances to furnish her two mansions
even warned that "our prodigious consumerism" might "weaken our vision."

(That's a lie you started in January, Mo. It has been discredited by everyone,
 but a crazy bitch like you can't stop herself from repeating the same stupid, clumsy lie.)

The drifting frat boy came back to Yale, a sober workout fanatic instead of a hard-partying prankster.
But he was still acting like the genial toastmaster at a 50's Dean Martin roast.

"I'm sure that each of you will make your own journey back at least a few times in your life," George W. Bush,
class of '68, told the class of '01. "If you're like me, you won't remember everything you did here. That can be a good thing."

Speaking of his old classmate Dick Brodhead, the dean of Yale, the president dryly noted that they had both put in a lot of
time on the library's leather couches: "We had a mutual understanding — Dick wouldn't read aloud, and I wouldn't snore."

He seemed nostalgic (if confused) about the keg-tapping, DKE-pledge- hanger-branding days before coeducation.
"In my time, they spoke of the Yale man," he said. "I was never really sure what that was."

W. and Hillary took radically different paths.
She clutched her husband's coattails, he clutched his father's.
She ran on Yale, he ran from it.
She survived being a scary West Wing know-it-all,
he thrives on being a scary West Wing know-nothing.
She grabbed policy and power, before they were hers to grab.
He sloughs them off, after they're his to wield.

They came back one day apart, as a senator and a president.
The yin and yang of Yale have become the yin and yang of national politics, both still the avatars
of opposite ends of 60's culture, each setting a course based on the other's weaknesses.

W. reclaimed the White House for Team Bush by running against the slippery ethical and moral standards
of Bill and Hillary. Now Hillary would like to reclaim the White House for Team Clinton by running against
the retro paternalism and bristling conservatism of Bush II.

At Yale, she agreed with Bush protesters screaming "Oh no, Al's ahead, better call my brother Jeb," and wearing pink stickers on their black gowns that read, "5-4," that President Bush's election was illegitimate. Reminiscing about how she worked on the State Senate campaign of a young Joe Lieberman, she said sardonically, "Not only was he elected, he actually got to serve."

By having such a Y-chromosome cast to his administration, W. is giving fresh oxygen to Hillary,
who began her Senate career looking greedy and tainted.

(Thanks to lying whores like you, Maureen.
  Remember that lie you fabricated about Jillary's "bridal registry?"
  Every whore on the Hill took that as truth and ran with it,
  but you've never apologized for those lies, have you?)

Now Senator Clinton can make the case that W. is endangering the environment and women's rights and even some of her husband's foreign affairs accomplishments with his cold-war attitude.  The return to Yale should have been a triumph for the president, as he put aside old irritations against the school's intellectual elitism.

His self-deprecating speech about his C-student days — "everything I know about the spoken word, I learned right here at Yale" — charmed some of the students who were hooting insults in the crowd.

But he seemed no more comprehending about the protests he had inspired at Yale — students with signs that said
"Kill the death penalty," women holding up signs in favor of reproductive rights, students wearing stickers that said
"Got arsenic?" and "Bush-Cheney: Fossil Fools" — than he did about the turmoil when he was a student there.

In the late 60's, avoiding the Beatles' psychedelic phase, W. appeared more interested in the problems of Texas oil men
and the secret meetings of Skull & Bones than in the agitation over Vietnam and civil rights.

He seemed like a throwback.
Three decades later, Hillary is itching to prove that he still is — Eisenhower with hair.