Monday Late Nite – Just. Keep. It. In. Your. Pants!
"Why can’t a woman be more like a man?" bemoans the poorly socialized, self-absorbed narcissist Professor Higgins. Why, so we could have twice the amount of Teh Stupid like we witnessed today?
As Jane noted earlier, there are still far too many intriguing (to say the least) questions surrounding this latest scandal that demand satisfactory answers before final judgment on Eliot Spitzer be declared.
That being said, as a resident of New York and someone who voted for Mr. Spitzer, I have a question for him: what the HELL were you thinking? You were the Attorney General, for crissakes, the self-righteous bulldog who chased down white collar criminals and prosecuted them. Successfully. You made yourself a whole lot of enemies on Wall Street who would kick up their well-polished heels if you were publicly scandalized. You won the Governor’s mansion running on your record at the AG’s office. Oh, did I mention the enemies you made on Wall Street? Buzz was that you were probably going to run for President in the near future, even though your track record of late was taking a beating.
And you threw it away on a high-priced hooker. I don’t give a shit if she had a Ph.D. in economics and was counseling you on the hidden pitfalls of NAFTA while she stuck a ball gag in your mouth and flagellated you with a cat o’ nine tails. I don’t even care that you had sex with a hooker, although your wife is probably a little perturbed to be the last to know about your tryst with one of the Emperors Club’s finest and your kids are now a little fuzzy on the whole "personal morality" issue. I just can’t believe how stupid you were. If this was a trap set by the Wall Street-financed Republican smear machine, then you walked right into it with your penis leading the way.
Let’s consider another angle, too, Mr. Spitzer. Thanks to your testosterone-driven madness, our Lieutenant Governor will have to step up if you decide to step aside. You understand what that means, right? It means that you’ve just made it that much more difficult for the Democrats to retake the Senate majority, which is tantalizingly within reach for the first time in over 40 years. Because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.
What is it with moralistic politicians and sex? How do we differentiate Spitzer from the Dapper Diaperman, David Vitter? Or Larry Craig, Baron of the Bathroom Stall? So the Emperors Club prostitutes have college and graduate degrees — so do a lot of lobbyists.
Honestly, it’s straight out of Woody Allen’s short story, The Whores of Mensa:
"I’m on the road a lot. You know how it is – lonely. Oh, not what you’re thinking. See, Kaiser, I’m basically an intellectual. Sure, a guy can meet all the bimbos he wants. But the really brainy women – they’re not so easy to find on short notice."
"Well, I heard of this young girl. Eighteen years old. A Yassar student. For a price, she’ll come over and discuss any subject – Proust, Yeats, anthropology. Exchange of ideas. You see what I’m driving at?"
"I mean my wife is great, don’t get me wrong. But she won’t discuss Pound with me. Or Eliot. I didn’t know that when I married her. See, I need a woman who’s mentally stimulating, Kaiser. And I’m willing to pay for it. I don’t want an involvement – I want a quick intellectual experience, then I want the girl to leave. Christ, Kaiser, I’m a happily married man."
Only this true story has a happy ending.