Barack Obama is my any measurable standard even more liberal than Hilary Clinton, and therefore should be the less desired candidate by conservatives.

And yet I find myself filling with an inward glee every time he manhandles Hilary in a primary - he took South Carolina this weekend by a margin of 55 to Clinton’s 27 - because I know her hubris taking another blow. It’s like a disturbance in the force. I sense it.

As a matter of strategy, I know that I should want Hilary to win the nomination. She’s so polarizing that she’ll give whoever her GOP opponent is a fighting chance, even with the spectre of GW hanging over the country like a foul stench. It’s a definite gamble for her to be the front-runner, as we might actually wind up with her. But from a purely intellectual standpoint (putting aside my revulsion for the woman) I know that the best chance we have to keep a Democrat way from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue is for Hilary to be their candidate for President.

You might be asking me why I care about this at all, since I’ve repeatedly said I that barring the unlikely prospect that Ron Paul was the front-runner, I probably won’t vote for the GOP candidate. The reason is that there is still a part of me that would rather see a Romney in the White House than an Obama. On those few issues where I think he’s a better fit, the temptation remains to support him. (If it were McCain, I don’t think I could even muster up the slightest preference.)

My strongest inclination is to say, “Who cares? Either is going to continue to systematically destroy the country in their own characteristic style.” But I’m not going to lie. I’d prefer a shred of decency to none at all. I just don’t think the bare minimum deserves my vote.

So while I remain conflicted, I’ll continue to delight in the unexpected beatings Ms. Clinton is taking. The look of surprise is priceless.

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