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Thursday, November 29, 2007

Class Act

Like I've been saying about Mrs. Doubtfire from day one -- the more you get to know this hump, the less you like him. Well, get to know him a little more.

I actually find it hard to get terribly moist about any of this; more than perhaps any candidate since Li'l Fredo hisself, Giuliani's primary skill set seems to be knowing how and where to wet his beak, and not only not get caught, but to convince people to thank him for being their daddy. It's not a fidelity issue, so much as a viewing-gubmint-as-a-big-trough issue.

People like Rudy do things like this because they can, and the people who want to vote for this prick will still do so, if only because they regard the electoral process as therapy, as a way to chip at their lingering projections of manifest failure and daddy issues. It's a sick symbiosis, made sicker by the fact that unless photos surface of Giuliani with his cock stuck in a dachshund -- and hell, maybe not even then -- there's always someone dumb enough to fall for his special brand of ego-affirming bullshit.

Update: Didn't realize Bill Paxon is an adviser to Giuliani's campaign, but I'm not surprised. If the fambly-valyews creeps were allowed to dance, they'd surely have a lifetime of it to do in explaining their acceptance of these people.

1 comment:

thedevilzone said...

I wonder if Pat Robertson feels a twinge of embarrassment for having just endorsed the horndog. Okay, scratch that. I wonder if any of the viewers of the 700 Club feel a vague sense of "Hey, ah think ah done been played like a cheap fiddle here..."