Saturday, September 15, 2007

We Can Do This All Day, Rudy.

In the immortal words of Trucky in “Pootie Tang”, “Oooooooh! Cover your grille!”

With the official kickoff of “The Snorlax Candidacy”, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was gonna come next. Cue a poll-worried Rudy Giuliani's eyes darting to and fro, his swift ducking into a nearby Port-a-Potty, and then seconds later, witness its door explode open, scattering scat, and revealing the awesome might of the Incredible, Raging Super-Prick!

Able of course, to leap logic with a single, lead-footed bound!

Mayor Rudy flipped his lid yesterday and not only accused Hillary of “character assassination” by questioning Gen. Petraeus during the hearings this week, but also incredulously tried to link her to the infamous MoveOn ad. “We believe, unlike Hillary Clinton, that General Petraeus is telling the truth,” Giuliani, a man who has never even been to Iraq, said (Hillary's been there 3 times). The MoveOn ad, which Rudy called “abominable,” was followed up “in a very, very coincidental way” by Hillary's tough questioning of the General. “What I don't think should happen in political discourse is the kind of character assassination that MoveOn.org participated in in calling him General Betray Us, that The New York Times gave them a discount to do and that Hillary Clinton followed up on with an attack on his integrity. It is time for Americans to really insist that American politicians move beyond character assassination and this is exactly what they attempted to do with General Petraeus.”

Questioning an opponent's patriotism? For those that know Rudy this hyperbole comes as no suprise, but it's pretty bold coming from a guy who dodged and applied for multiple deferrments from the Vietnam War. A guy who walked out on the Iraq Study Group to make a boatload of money on the lecture circuit exploiting 9/11. A guy who, in 2004, actually blamed U.S. troops in Iraq for not looking hard enough for missing weapons, refusing to blame Bush. “No matter how you try to blame it on the president, the actual responsibility for it really would be for the troops that were there,” Giuliani said on NBC's "Today" show. “Did they search carefully enough? Didn't they search carefully enough?”


It would seem that Rudy's repeated ordering of the Paint Chips in Vodka Sauce in his visits to Rao's uptown has truly addled his shiny pate—or perhaps, he's just acting true to form.

You see Rudy, the MoveOn ad actually cites something that nearly all of the mainstream press (outside of the glorified New York version of “Grit” called the New York Post) has been reporting on for the last three weeks—namely, that the rosy numbers Petraeus was presenting had been heavily massaged by Centcom, processed like government cheese by the Bush administration's in-house Surge promotion “war room”, and then styled like grossly inedible, but pretty-for-the-camera food by Petraeus himself, and his congressional coterie of charlatans on the right side of the aisle on the hill. And what Hillary said—that one “would have to suspend belief” to swallow what Petraeus was shoveling...well...the numbers he's been pushing would make an Enron accountant blush.

But man! This Erica Kane-level of bad-acting high dudgeon over the “traitor” straw man mounted by you and your wingnut buddies here smacks of the bullshit-fit you and Al D'Amato threw over the use of the word “Fascist”, in presciently describing your draconian policies before you became New York's Mayor. You spun it as an anti-Italian slur, ('Gasp! They're equating me with Mussolini—who's Italian, you know!' ) when you wanted to deflect from the issue—which was your brutal, fist-in-the-face Mayoral style. You're doing the same thing here.

Let's not focus on the General's untruths! They're saying he's sold the country out as a traitor!

You spit, and fume, and stomp your orthopedic shoe-clad feet over the “crime” that is NOT taking General Petraeus at his golden, Godly word.

Well...okay. Perhaps we should take him at his word—specifically when he let slip that engaging in this sillyfuck war would make us no safer. Whaat? Oh...you don't like it when we focus on thaaaaaaat, do you?

Perhaps that was your plan all along. To hype this bullshit “slam” at Petraeus' “honor”, and memory hole that unfortunate moment of candor from the dour four-star P.R. person? Hmmmmm? You screech and go red in the head like a crazed Rodan over people questioning the efficacy of this war. Where was your feckless ass when America REALLY needed you step up and put your ass on the line in a war?

Off shtupping a cousin perhaps?

Were you quite so amped up then to giddily give your all and go listen to and act on the words of a man in uniform?

Please. The last time you happily obeyed someone in a uni, you were probably on your knees at your old WTC7 Bunker/Fuckbox playing submissive to Judi in her “Ilsa, The She Wolf” get-up.

The entry of Fred Thompson has got your ass in a snit, and you're looking to break away from the pack again, so you opted to go into your bottomless bag of assholery.

I want to take out an ad, too!

I want a discount rate, too!

Hillary should apologize, and repudiate MoveOn for this slander!


And it is there where you overreached. I feel like Bill Duke in “Menace II Society”, where he busted the perp in a blatant gaffe during the interrogation.

“You know you done fucked up, don't you? You know it, don't you? You know you done fucked up.”

Because Rudy, you done fucked up.

Once you open that Pandora's Box of “apologize for your slander”, you release...the ghost of a dead man. A dead man you yourself slandered within 48 hours of his murder at the hands of your police force. His name was Patrick Dorismond. A poor shlub enjoying a couple of beers after a long day of work as a security guard. Standing in front of a bar on a summer night, one of your finest on an over-zealous buy and bust operation decided to harass Mr. Dorismond, treating him like a drug dealer. When Mr. Dorismond told your undercover cop to go fuck himself, your officer swiss-cheesed him for no reason.

Mr. Dorismond was not armed, you should recall.

And when the hue and cry went up about the clearly unjust slaying, you went nuclear. You unsealed Mr. Dorismond's SEALED juvenile arrest record, which was against the law. You impugned his character, saying that “He was no altar boy.”—which he ironically in fact had been. You cast him as a violent thug who supposedly “spent much of his adult life punching people”.

Of course, when called on your cowardly words, you defended yourself, saying “The dead have no right to privacy.” You never apologized to his wife or his family for saying what you said. You hid behind your self-appointed power of being Mayor of New York's meaning never having to say you're sorry.

Remember that? You went there, and after going there, camped out for awhile.

Well hotshot, I just wonder...seeing as how the Times is taking money for ads from everybody—I think you paid about $70,000 for your dead-tree pants piss—I can't imagine it would be too hard for those who remember what you did to Patrick Dorismond's reputation, to dig up the dough, or find deep-pocketed, interested parties who would finance an ad reminding all of America about what you did. How you went out of your way to break the law to slam a dead Black man, and justify his murder. It's all in the public record...your every word. I think it's time you said you were sorry...to his family and friends.

I think it's high time that you apologized for your unbridled slander of a Black man whose unjustified death you championed at the hands of your police force, Rudy.

This isn't Hillary being asked to plead mea culpa for some shit she didn't say.

This is you being called on your own well-documented, evil words.

Are you man enough to own up to your slander, Rudy?

Regardless of the consequences—like losing your “base” of pants-pissing, big-city bigots?

Come on, tough guy. You're so quick go to that bag. Let's all go there.

We can do this all day.

And for the record, I've CC'ed MoveOn and Reverend Sharpton's National Action Network just to let 'em know about this little idea.

You can thank me later.