Yesterday's hero
I may have to give up writing about politics. I'm not ruthless enough for these times. Yesterday I found myself feeling a twinge of pity for Rudolph Giuliani.
I was glad the Yankees invited him to ride in their parade up Broadway, because he has had an unfortunate year. His pal Bernie Kerik is headed to prison. Glenn Beck has hijacked all the juicy aspects of 9/11 -- the fear, the rage, the paranoia. That federal judgeship is unlikely to happen, no matter how suicidally bipartisan the Obama Administration becomes. Best he could hope is a daytime syndicated show, Judge Rudy dispensing justice to neighbors quarreling over dog poop and broken iPods. Even the glamorous opera stars he married nine years ago onstage at the Met, Angela Gheorghiu and Roberto Alagna, have filed for divorce.
Today Giuliani announced he will not run for governor of New York next year, but may consider running for the Senate. Nobody wants to be one senator among a hundred if he has a shot at becoming the Big Baccala. And I'm not even sure he could win. The special election in the New York 23rd is particularly ominous. While Giuliani's credentials as a racist are impeccable, he has never been convincingly homophobic or anti-choice. Suppose he won the nomination, only to have Jabba the Rush brand him a RINO (Republican In Name Only) and demand the party bring in another Doug Hoffman, maybe from Texas where they raise USDA prime crackpots. America's Mayor could lose to someone called Gillibrand, as anonymous now as the day she was appointed.
I'm sorry, I have to stop now. It's too sad.
I was glad the Yankees invited him to ride in their parade up Broadway, because he has had an unfortunate year. His pal Bernie Kerik is headed to prison. Glenn Beck has hijacked all the juicy aspects of 9/11 -- the fear, the rage, the paranoia. That federal judgeship is unlikely to happen, no matter how suicidally bipartisan the Obama Administration becomes. Best he could hope is a daytime syndicated show, Judge Rudy dispensing justice to neighbors quarreling over dog poop and broken iPods. Even the glamorous opera stars he married nine years ago onstage at the Met, Angela Gheorghiu and Roberto Alagna, have filed for divorce.
Today Giuliani announced he will not run for governor of New York next year, but may consider running for the Senate. Nobody wants to be one senator among a hundred if he has a shot at becoming the Big Baccala. And I'm not even sure he could win. The special election in the New York 23rd is particularly ominous. While Giuliani's credentials as a racist are impeccable, he has never been convincingly homophobic or anti-choice. Suppose he won the nomination, only to have Jabba the Rush brand him a RINO (Republican In Name Only) and demand the party bring in another Doug Hoffman, maybe from Texas where they raise USDA prime crackpots. America's Mayor could lose to someone called Gillibrand, as anonymous now as the day she was appointed.
I'm sorry, I have to stop now. It's too sad.
Labels: sadness
posted by Buttermilk Sky at 10:17 PM
1 Comments:
I'm sure Rudy will give himself all the pity he needs. Spare yours for someone who needs it.
Can't wait for him to be elected to the Senate & then start running for Prez immediately after the election.
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