Archive for ‘Eliot Spitzer’

June 25, 2009

Mary Jo Kopechne couldnot be reached for comment

Having suggested that Jenny Sanford should ventilate her cheating SOB husband with .38 slugs, I think I cannot be accused of making excuses for Republicans with zipper problems.

Well, what about David Shuster of NBC News? A friend was following Shuster’s Twitter feed yesterday:

Does Spitzer deserve more “credit” (wrong word choice, I know) because he resigned as opposed to Sanford who is staying in office?

To quote Andrew Sullivan, words fail. My opinion is that Sanford’s next office should be under a tombstone, and comparing the Last Tango in Buenos Aires to the sordid saga of Spitzer — the anti-prostitution crusader who found himself entangled in an FBI investigation of an interstate call-girl ring — tends to obscure, rather than enlighten.

What kind of perverse mind tries to use Sanford’s shame to rehabilitate the scoundrel Spitzer? Absurd.

Meanwhile, speaking of Twitter and Sanford, Dave Weigel just Twittered a quote from his story about the Sanford scandal:

“It proves men who oppose federal spending are irresistible to women.”
Grover Norquist

Heh. No wonder Dr. Helen keeps such a close eye on Glenn Reynolds. Keep that .38 handy, Dr. Helen!

UPDATE: Michelle Malkin is definitely not a member of the Grover Norquist Fan Club:

Just what we need: Beltway conservatives showing how tone-deaf and insensitive they are for the sake of a self-aggrandizing soundbite.

Note Malkin’s mother-bear reaction:

I don’t find anything funny about the Sanford affair. It’s the mom in me thinking about four handsome boys on Father’s Day weekend abandoned by their stupid, selfish father, who was busy tanning with his mistress in Argentina. Heart-breaking. Yes. Nauseating. Yes. Maddening. Yes. Funny? No.

Sarcasm is my natural metier, and spending two decades in the newroom tends to put a keen edge on one’s cynical indifference to the foibles of the famous and powerful. In some circles, a big-shot politician is like a rock star, so when a politician behaves like he’s on tour with Aerosmith, it brings out my inner Mencken. (He once remarked that the only way a journalist should ever look at a politician is down.)

My cynicism is bipartisan. Sanford’s Argentine escapade is, to me, as ludicrous and deserving of scornful laughter as any shenanigans of Gary Hart, Ted Kennedy or Bill Clinton.

I was on the phone a few minutes ago with a Texas Republican, a Christian conservative gentleman with extensive experience in the blogosphere. As I explained to my friend, for 20 years I’ve had a saying: My wife has a kitchen drawer full of knives, and I’ve got to sleep sometime.

Humor can expresss truth. In an act of divine irony, God blessed an ugly old hound like me with a beautiful wife, a blessing deserving of eternal gratitude. If I ever cheated on Mrs. Other McCain, no jury would ever convict her. My well-deserved death (or grievous mutilation) would be the subject of a thousand jokes, and appropriately so.

UPDATE II: Weigel’s story is now on Memeorandum and if you’re offended by humor, let’s look at a couple of serious reactions to l’affaire Sanford. Erick Erickson:

What Mark Sanford did was wrong. He needs to go in a dark hole somewhere where no one can see him or hear him and rehabilitate himself. . . . The left is going to spend the next week making Sanford into the second coming of James Dobson to smear real marriage advocates and social conservatives — positions Sanford was rarely vocal on.

There are things from which a politician can “rehabilitate himself.” Flying off to Argentina to screw a “glorious” woman named Maria Belen Shapur? Nope. I caught a minute of yesterday’s press conference while at the American Spectator office. When Sanford used the word “forgiveness,” I shouted at the TV a two-word response. (Hint: The second word was “you.”)

Welcome to the private sector, sir. Resign now. Meanwhile, Sanford’s downfall contributes to the disillusionment of a young Washingtonian:

Forget shaking my faith in the Republican Party, after a while it just starts to shake your faith in men. I mean, are all men incapable of remaining faithful?
I’ve been following this story with fingers crossed, “Please, don’t be another Republican having an affair!” I guess that was too much to ask for. What a chump. It just leaves me shaking my head with a look of disgust across my face. It’s just so disappointing.

Question: What about the Marias of the world, who seem to have no compunction about affairs with other women’s husbands? Do such women bear no responsibility? Whatever sort of two-faced scumbag horndog Mark Sanford may be, even in Buenos Aires it still takes two to tango. Sanford is 100% responsible for keeping his own vows, but his responsibility does not exempt Maria from blame.

Amid all these serious considerations, I still defend my right to sarcasm. If Bill Clinton is a punchline, Mark Sanford is a Monty Python routine.

March 8, 2009

The sadistic pleasure of ‘progressivism’

Remember when Eliot Spitzer’s anti-capitalist crusades made him a darling of the “progressive” Left?

“I was never fully undressed. He was naked. He was perspiring a lot. He was holding me down. He pinned me to the bed. That didn’t bother me. But when he grabbed my throat, that was too much. I remember trying to push myself up off the bed, which made him apply more pressure. I’ve never been worried about my safety, but I was really concerned.”

Strangling hookers. Something symbolic there, eh?

December 17, 2008

The outrage merchant

You know Glenn Greenwald’s about to write something particularly stupid when his first line includes a descriptor like “extremely pro-war, neoconservative.” (Why not just “pro-war”? Why must it be bookended between “extremely” and “neoconservative”?)

In the case of Greenwald’s latest emission at Salon, the elaborate descriptor is applied to the defunct New York Sun, two of whose former staffers have recently contributed to the New Republic. One of them, Jacob Gerhsman, published an article expressing surprise toward Eliot Spitzer’s early attempt at political rehabilitation. This article — “a finger-wagging sermon,” per Greenwald — inspires a counterblast comparing Spitzer’s crimes (hiring high-priced call girls) with the crimes alleged against Dick Cheney who, Greenwald says, “literally admitted, brazenly and unapologetically, to committing war crimes; blithely justified the atrocities that were committed as part of our attack on Iraq; and glorified the whole slew of illegal surveillance programs he ordered.”

Greenwald’s a one-trick pony. Being outraged at Republican “war crimes” is his shtick, and God knows how he’ll fill his days when the Bush administration leaves office. The man certainly doesn’t get work on the basis of his engaging prose. A single sentence as sample:

The reason the American political establishment tenaciously refuses to acknowledge the devastation and crimes that have been unleashed during the Bush era is obvious: aside from the generalized belief that Americans are inherently good and thus incapable of meriting terms such as “aggressive wars” and “war criminals” no matter what they actually do (those phrases are applicable only to lesser foreigners), most of the establishment supported these crimes and the criminals who unleashed them.

Seventy-four words, in case you were counting, and not much real meaning except: “Boy, do I hate Bush!” If you share Greenwald’s outrage, perhaps it’s satisfying to watch him reiterate it endlessly — a sort of online Olbermann rant to tide you over until you can go home and watch “Countdown.” If you aren’t outraged, however, there’s no reason to read Greenwald except as a species of grim duty.

Anti-Bush indignation is his stock in trade, and the sell-by date of that particular commodity has probably already passed. No one, however, has told this to Greenwald. He’s like one of those guys who got on the “who killed Vince Foster?” bandwagon in 1993 and kept peddling it long after the public had lost interest.

Expect Greenwald to keep chasing his idee fixe. He won’t change his tune, he’ll just look for new excuses to sing it. Some member of the Obama administration will be caught in a minor scandal, and Greenwald will trot out his obligatory column saying that whatever the administration official did, it can’t possibly be compared to “the devastation and crimes that have been unleashed during the Bush era.”

By 2010, this method of argumentation will be known as the Greenwald Defense, and will be widely employed throughout society: “Yes, officer, I realize I was doing 83 mph in a 55 mph zone, but is this really worth a traffic citation, when you consider the devastation and crimes that have been unleashed during the Bush era?”

(Cross-posted at AmSpecBlog.)

UPDATE: Linked at Instapundit. Thanks! And with only a week left until Christmas, this would be a great time to remind everyone of the 2008 Holiday Book Sale.

UPDATE II: The New York Daily News has more on the Spitzer career rehabilitation project.

UPDATE III: Greenwald links, and I respond.

November 22, 2008

Spitzer’s hooker speaks!

(Via Hot Air.) Let’s face it, at least Spitzer got his money’s worth, compared to whatever action “Truckstop Jim” McGreevey was getting . . .

UPDATE: I find myself anonymously accused in the comments of a “sexist and offensive” attitude, because my “cavalier comments” are a “thin disguise for admiration for Spitzer’s sexual prowess,” an endorsement of the “exploitation of young, beautiful women in the sex trade,” etc.

Lighten up, Anonymous. Nearly all my comments are “cavalier,” and the destruction of the crusading anti-capitalist Spitzer in a hooker scandal was one of the most richly ironic political stories of the year. He hates capitalism — those evil, greedy, big corporations! — yet he’s paying thousands per night to shag a high-priced call girl?

I certainly don’t “admire” Spitzer for his “prowess.” Paying for the companionship of a prostitute is the opposite of “prowess.” But at least, as I said, he got his money’s worth. If a politician is going to destroy his career with a sex scandal, the means of his destruction ought to be something extravagant and glamorous, rather than McGreevey’s sordid truck-stop assignations or Tim Mahoney’s tepid affair with a middle-aged Hill staffer. Wilbur Mills and “the Argentine Firecracker” splashing around the Tidal Basin — that’s what I call a sex scandal.

And, please, Anonymous, spare me this crap:

I just feel sad for Dupree; as sad as I felt for Monica Lewinsky. Both were exploited by powerful men and learned a painful lesson about bad choices and narcissistic men.

Dupre was engaged in a fee-for-service transaction. Who was exploiting whom? She goes on TV with Diane Sawyer and does the poor-victim routine, and everybody’s supposed to feel sorry for her. Not me. Let’s call a money-grubbing whore what she is, OK? The whore and her john are equally contemptible, and if I express my contempt through sarcastic humor, well, that’s pretty much how I express everything.

Finally, as to Miss Lewinsky: She was a spoiled-rotten rich girl who grew up in Bel Air, Calif. I try to make a point of never feeling sorry for people like that — given every advantage and every opportunity in life, petted and pampered and sheltered from harm, and ultimately failing because they lack any strength of character. Oh, I know the type well: Selfish, weak, superficial and filled with self-pity. What act of charity or generosity did Monica Lewinsky ever do that would recommend her as worthy of 1/10th of what was lavished on her? And now, on top of everything else, we are supposed to pity her? It seems to me she’s had entirely too much of that.

UPDATE II: Little Miss Attila calls me a whore. I think she means that as a compliment.