Torture is a uniquely human invention and endeavor. For some, inflicting physical pain satisfies a sadistic hunger. For others, inflicting mental suffering satisfies a need for domination. Apparently, there’s exquisite joy in both. In the Pit of Despair, Prince Humperdinck could simply have executed Westley but chose to delight in his agony on The Machine. For some, you see, there’s no substitute for hands-on torment. For others, however, there’s no substitute for dispensing misery on an epic scale. From her sheltered office at the State Department, Secretary Clinton twiddled while Benghazi burned and Americans died. From the comfort of her New Castle digs, Clinton conspired as the Middle East erupted and ISIS arose from the rubble. From her seat on sleek private jets, Clinton plotted her presidential run, as her private email server risked America’s national security and the very lives of Her foreign agents. From her mouth at the most recent campaign stop, you heard sounds that no man living or dead can tolerate — sounds that every man fears — sounds that make every man’s skin crawl — sounds that make water boarding seem like child’s play. This is true torture — hearing those shrill, strident, jarring, piercing sounds. As she shouted, screamed and screeched, you contemplated the new terror of a new Clinton presidency. Suddenly, foreign policy, the economy, immigration and healthcare seem trivial. IRS intimidation is just politics as usual. Harvesting and selling baby body parts is nothing of consequence. The national debt, poverty, crime, terrorism and corruption are mere distractions. Suddenly, you grasp the meaning of unimaginable horror — something Dorothy must have felt when she first heard the banshee shrieks of the Wicked Witch of the West. Suddenly, you remember that Clinton would be Commander In Chief. That would place the nation’s military directly in her line of fire — verbal fusillades which no amount of training could alleviate. Suddenly, you recall that she yelled her support for every special interest except yours — for women’s rights, student rights, LGBT rights,  African American rights and immigrant rights — but not a syllable about white working men. You can only pray, every hour on the hour, that every real man and every real woman of any color and any political affiliation, will reject this deceitful old lady — not because she’s unethical and unscrupulous — and not because she’s never accomplished anything of value in her ineffectual career. No, she (and her sleazy husband) must finally be rejected and sent away, because this Nation of the People, by the People and for the People can little endure the daily assault of that grating, torturous voice.