Thursday, August 9, 2007

Papa, Don't Preach!

“You're fucking gonna vote for who, and he's a fucking WHAT?”

Ah Rudy...truly thou art the dysfunctional, family reality show-level-of crazy, gift of Campaign '08 that just keeps onnnnnnn giving, baby. Thus, it can now be said, my Damies...this campaign has officially become a hot, stnkin', bats-in-the-trunk-of-the-Camaro mess. h/t my fellow NY'er and Giuliani train-wreck watcher, Julia at Sisyphus:

There's one vote that Rudy Giuliani definitely can't count on in his 2008 presidential bid: his own daughter's. According to the 17-year-old Caroline Giuliani's Facebook profile, she's supporting Barack Obama.


It's not news that Rudy and his two children, Caroline and her 21-year-old brother Andrew, have a rocky relationship. Caroline and Andrew are the children of Donna Hanover, Rudy's second wife. In March, Andrew, who is a junior at Duke, told the New York Times that he and his father had been estranged for some time, and he has spoken candidly about his objections to Giuliani's marriage to Judith Nathan. And after the wedding, the Times reported, Giuliani also stopped attending Caroline's high-school events. Though he went to her high-school graduation, he left without speaking to her and did not join in the post-graduation family celebration, according to the New York Daily News.

Oh my. Oh my, my, my! This is the best Spike Lee Joint he didn't actually shoot. Let's see...this one features a crazed, racist, White, ethnic former NY Mayor ( John Turturro in the lead role) who ditches his long-suffering wife (Kyra Sedgwick) for a whack-job, star-fucking climber (Parker Posey), which alienates him from his multi-sport athlete son, ("One Tree Hill's" Chad Michael Murray) and of course, his sensitive, wounded daughter (you guessed it—Scarlett Johanssen), who lashes out by disavowing everything her dad has ever stood for, and publicly backs her father's opponent in the coming Presidential election. Daddy's BLACK opponent, actually—as played by a smoldering Denzel Washington. Special cameo appearance by Samuel L. Jackson, as Rev. Sharpe Albertson, Turturro's mouthy, antagonistic Black activist beté noir, who drives Turtiurro to the classic Lee-esque act of rash, hate-fueled violence.

Oh, and Fred Thompson would of course play himself, via phone. as per usual.

But seriously, the way you know that this story wounds Rudy like an acid-dipped macheté is the way certain pundits, like MSNBC's Chris Matthews and Tucker Carlson acted as if someone was forcing them to swallow a wriggling newborn whole when they found themselves having to cover it. Both of those clowns went into their hacktacular little bags of tricks and pulled out cheap-ass pots and kettles as they cited the unseemliness of violating the Rudy's privacy in this bit of reportorial digging.

Imagine that. These two J. Press-suited assclowns who to this very day snuffle around Clintonian nether regions like in-heat, amphetamine-kibbled St. Bernards are now somehow affronted, by the intrusion of reporting on Giuliani's daughter's backing not just another GOP opponent, but the Democratic candidate most likely to send Giuliani into his totally native, true self—a Louisville-swingin', "Moolie"-spouting, "et'nic"-enclaved mega-bigot? Boys, please! Were Chelsea Clinton discovered to be a Rudy-backing retro-renegade, you'd have to lace up nine lobster bibs apiece to catch the pheromone laced drool they'd be secreting for the teasers alone. The utter pain in the having to report on yet another brick chucked at Rudy from the bushes seemed to visibly pain these people—and others, like the network's Nika Brzezinski, who put her fingers in the ears of thet empty, blonde head of hers and repeatedly yipped on-camera "It's not a story. It's not a story!"

Was there any such hand-wringing over the reportage in the Al Gore's -son-arrested-for-drug-possession-and-speeding story? The son of a guy who isn't even running? Yeah. I think fucking not. You see, this tale—Rudy's daughter's diss, directly involves the campaign as it goes to the bigger narrative of Rudy's considerable personal baggage that he himself publicized rather brusquely with that infamous "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag" press conference while still married. His complicated family issues are issues he himself, complicated. So, to cry "Oooooh, my privacy!" now when he was willing to pimp his family mercilessly in earlier campaigns—a family that he made an issue through his very public peccadilloes that wounded them for all to see, pretty much inspires little more than a hearty "Ohshutthefuckupyoupunkassbitch" from me. Sorry. Or not.

And let me keep this brutally real. The other reason why this resonates so deeply for me, is the "Seen-this-about-ten-times-in-my-own-ife" familiarity of the scenario. In my eight years of High School and College, I can vividly remember numerous other playouts of this sort of juicy operetta. Dad's a racist jerk. A creep to mom, and daughter dear. "How does she get from under his overbearing, caveman-nish thumb and zing the motherfucker in a way that'll hurt him to the wife-beater wearin' quick?"

She removes herself totally from daddy's narrow sphere of existence—beyond his little world where all the fellas look like him and sound like him, and have the same fucked up, backward views as him.

Meadow...moves out. :)

Except in my experiences, she realllllllly moves out. She starts hangin' with Kim, and Yasmin, and other girls. She learns where the spot is to get the really good counterfeit Louis Vuitton bags, and spends what she saves on clubbing in places where the usual boys named Richie and Chris, who drive Z-28s are rare as capped hen's teeth. She even goes to see Save The Last Dance with the dark chocolate-skinned Malik from her Communications class, who...I dunno, maybe helped her out with her "History of Computing" paper. They become an item on campus, where nobody cares. She only half-hides him from family. Just enough to be discreet, but more than enough to freak the old man out when he catches wind of it. Apoplectic with rage over the in-his-mind, Shakespearean level of betrayal, yet ultimately, impotent (pun half-intended, Rudy) to do a Goddamned thing about it.

Fuck you, dad...and fuck your whole world.

I'm pretty sure that I've been the "Malik" on two occasions. As have other friends of mine. And I must admit—once I got beyond the abject fear for life and limb at the hands of racist, old, control freak "Daddy", there was a certain satisfaction in seeing him have to swallow the ebony-hued (if only for a moment) fuck-finger that daughter-dear poudly waggled in his face for all the venomous shit he held dear in his life. There's no chemo for the way this is chewin' at Rudy's guts—and it istrust me. So to keep his sanity—what little there is, he falls back on the lame-ass attempt to stifle discussion on the topic. "And I don't comment on children because I want to give them the maximum degree of privacy. I think children in situations like this deserve to have the maximum degree of privacy." Roll that around for a moment, and then remember how he leaked the SEALED juvenile arrest record of NYPD murder victim Patrick Dorismond a mere 24 hours after his slaying, impugning a dead man who did nothing to deserve being shot to pieces. "He was no choirboy", Rudy crowed in an attempt to cover for his officers brutal actions, and then detailed the man's non-germane, and supposedly SEALED particulars of an earlier life. When called on it, Rudy actually got out his shovel and would dig a rhetorical grave for himself, saying "You cannot libel a dead person!" "That Mr. Dorismond has spent a good deal of his life punching people is a fact!" and "I am just giving you facts that you resist printing." Lotsa crazy shit like that. Well...your chickens are coming home to roost, my razor-lipped, Fascist friend, and they're full of the Avian Flu, and ready to peck, peck, peck at you until they hit exposed bone.

It couldn't happen to a nicer , racist fuck. So if I seem gleeful, well...break out the old mix-tape with Kool & The Gang's "Celebration", and The Pointer Sisters' "Jump!" on Side B. I will dance at your every travail...and I won't be alone. 'Cause you're lookin' at the possibility of a Guiness World Record for the number of participants in a mass "Electric Slide"—at your expense.

"It's electric! Boogie-woogie-woogie!" Bitch.

And just to show you all that I have not cornered the market on seeing all things Rudy-bed-shit-centric before they've drifted into sight, let me give some light to a commenter on this blog who went totally Karnak/Uri Geller/That's So Raven in sniffing out the newest number holder on the blocks-long, "Let's fuck with Rudy" queue:

Two things from the VF article that struck me: the staffers commenting that Rudy's women come and go, but they remain. Judi might be on the outs sooner than we know, or Rudy will get caught with his pants down sooner than we can hope. 

The second comment was that Andrew had spoken up about his non-relationship with dad as a way of supporting his sister, Caroline, who's been silent on all of this. Well I doubt Donna will open her mouth, as she more than likely signed something forcing her to keep quiet. But Caroline didn't sign anything, and that would be a real blow. Ex-wife hates your guts? No problem. Daughter can't stand you? Not good.
DianeB | 08.02.07 - 11:40 am |

Diane B pulled that one from outta the air five days ago. Three days before Rudy's "A Patch Of Blue II: The Reckoning" moment with Caroline and Obama. That's plum scarifying.

And it's only August of '07.

If I may paraphrase Dave Chappelle and Atrios...

"Jiffy Pop, bitches!"