Tuesday, March 11, 2008

A CAREER IN PUBIC SERVICE

(Or: Eliot Spitzer, At Your Cervix.)

It never ceases to amaze me. No, wait: it has ceased to amaze me. Because it happens all the fucking time.

Yet another politician has got his Dick in a Wringer by sticking it where it doesn’t belong, the latest casualty being one Eliot “Idiot” Spitzer, soon to be ex-Governor of New York.

Years ago, I stopped wondering why people whose political star was on the rise – or at the zenith - would risk it all on the throw of the Shtup-Dice. I had asked a politically-connected acquaintance why anyone in Public Service would risk his career for a blowjob (this was when Charles Robb had gotten caught with his dick in some chippie’s face, long before the Clinton-Lewinsky mess), and he answered, “A politician will always take the blowjob.” And it looks like he was right. Charles Robb, Bill Clinton – hell, the list is so long, it would make my bloated blogroll vanish into insignificance by comparison.

And you know, normally, I don’t especially care. If I were less of a cynic, I might get bent out of shape about entrusting people who routinely violate their marriage vows with managing the Public Trust…but that seems to be an issue with Americans, mainly. A relic of our Puritan heritage, I expect.

But I do have an issue with hypocrisy.

It’s why I think Larry Craig is an asshole. When you’re buried so deep in the closet that you hide behind a pile of anti-gay rhetoric and legislation, you’re being a hypocrite.

And it’s why I think Eliot Spitzer is an asshole. Not just a hypocrite, but someone who has punished people for doing the same things he does. Schmuck.

Read the wise words of the munchkin wrangler on this subject. I wish I’d have said ’em first:
Anyone - anyone - who uses the power of their public office to prosecute and incarcerate people for a crime that they themselves commit should face a firing squad - and I don’t mean the metaphorical kind. I mean the actual kind, with rifles and bullets, and a paper target pinned to the chest of the wayward public servant.

Amen to that. [Tip o’ th’ Elisson fedora to Erica for finding this little gem.]

I also like Joe Tobacco’s take on the story:
Most “affairs” presume at least some sort of romantic involvement, which is bad enough, but prostitutes fill a different kind of need altogether, don’t they?

At least, for most people, they fill that need. For others, however, the need itself is associated with another, uglier need…the need to assert one’s power over a woman who, as a paid chattel, is pretty much guaranteed to do exactly what the “employer” asks.

Read the whole thing.

And that, I guess, is what adds the ultimate fillip, that extra dab of ridiculousness, to this story. Spitzer was nailing prostitutes. High-end call girls, some charging over four large per session. Jeez, what do you get to do to a whore for $4000? Stick it in her small intestine?

Anyway, here’s the thing. What kind of lame-ass politician pays for sex, when he can probably get all he wants for free?

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