Maureen Dowd's Sunday column, "The Monster Mash," contains the usual partially coherent mishmash of topical metaphors and borderline obsessive Clinton-hating, plenty to merit much up-shutting if she should so choose. But her latest ramblings employ a vocabulary that strikes me as suspiciously old-timey:
Only after last week’s reversals did the Obama camp raise a louder ruckus about her tax returns...Privately, his people conceded that he hadn’t been as fierce about winning as Hillary, once more playing rope-a-dope.Ruckus? Rope-a-dope? Perhaps these atavistic turns of phrase are merely linguistic artifacts surfacing from the depths of the collective unconscious. Or could she be in cahoots with Mr. Benjamin H. Grumbles? Before you call me unreasonable, consider how our favorite yellow journalist would have enjoyed a rousing anti-suffrage rally. And some might say she'd look rather convincing in a Victorian era kepi. I'm just saying.