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The International Writers Magazine: Humility begins at Home

The Circle Unbroken
Dean Borok

 “Man in a suit with a bowtie neck
Wanna buy a grunt with a third party check”
Frank Zappa

I never cared about Eliot Spitzer.  I thought he was a knucklehead, a spoiled rich guy.  I read a profile about him in The New York Times that said his family dinners were screaming political polemics.
Spitzer did a good thing going after all those structured finance thieves on Wall Street.  Those creeps, with their fancy accounting, never did any good for humanity.  All they did was steal, and now their thievery has reduced the world economy to chaos.  They are dancing in the streets to see him brought low, not least because many of them were still under suspicion as of last week. 
Spitzer declared himself to be a “fucking steamroller.”  Unfortunately he steamrolled over his own dick.  Even though I never liked him it pains me to see all the satisfaction it gave to the Republicans, whom I find to be even more odious than he.  The problem for me is that the Democratic Party is also filled with hypocritical moralists, and I have to inhabit the same structure as those abominable creeps.
The worst aspect of Spitzer is that when he was attorney general he sent a lot of people up to do hard time for engaging in the same activities in which he was found to be indulging.  That has all the earmark qualities of fascism, where Republicans like J. Edgar Hoover persecuted homosexuals only to be exposed as one himself.  What do you say about a cop who makes his living busting people for smoking dope and then tries to cop out when he tests positive for reefer by telling investigators that his wife cooked it into the meatballs without his knowledge, as recently happened here in New York.
Endeavoring to dig deeper into the Spitzer story, I decided to venture into the home state of Spitzer’s poor victim, New Jersey, to try to get a more personal perspective.  My research took me to the Adega Bar on Ferry Street in Newark, which employees a lot of hot, young cocktail waitresses who are about as tuned in to the money as you can get.  When I inquired of one of them whether the girls in that bar would be open to a date with the governor for $5,000, she responded with alacrity “Sure!  I know I would!”  She didn’t even bother to ask which governor or which state.
Everybody laughed when steroids stool pigeon Brian McNamee produced signed personal checks from New York Mets catcher Paul Lo Duca for buying drugs.  How could anybody be that stupid, to pay off drug dealer with a check?  But people generally wrote if off as the imbecilic behavior of an illiterate baseball player.  The idea of a crusading reformist governor of a rich and powerful state with a legion of highly placed enemies paying off prostitutes with traceable wire transfers was unimaginable.
Stupid does not even begin to describe his behavior.  It has to have a chemical physiological component to it.  Maybe his parents were first cousins?  The fact that contemporary New York life is presenting so many dysfunctional symptoms - the economic meltdown, the Knicks, falling construction cranes that are maiming people – suggests an epidemic of genetic breakdown unprecedented since the citizens of the Roman empire lost their minds due to lead poisoning from their drinking water passing through contaminated aqueduct pipes.
Don’t laugh!  Something has to explain all the imbecilic behavior taking place all around us and the fact that it is being accepted as the normal course of events.
I have to say that seen through the prism of abnormal psychology that prevails in modern life, it is possible to regard Spitzer’s behavior as wholly understandable and even benevolent.  Maybe his large payments to the Emperor’s Club were part of a personal charitable agenda to help out underprivileged girls.  Did you ever think of that?  Any good attorney would float that as a defense, if only to see whether or not it would fly.
“Oh, governor, my life is in ruins. It is hopeless.  I don’t know what I am going to do!”
“Don’t worry, my child.  Come down to Washington and I will personally give you five thousand dollars.  Purely for your personal redemption, you understand.”
 “Oh, governor, thank you thank you!  How can I ever hope to repay you?”
 “Well, there is one small thing…”
Try to imagine the scene in the hotel room!
“Child, now is the time to pray for repentance and forgiveness.  Fall to your knees!”
 “What about you, governor?”
 “I’ll remain standing.”
Anyway, all of those charitable impulses are now a thing of the past, swept away in the torrent of vindictive persecution churned up by Spitzer’s political enemies.  Never mind!  There are still plenty of opportunities for a rich man who has the interests of young girls at heart.  He might team up with that other kindhearted philanthropic Democrat, Bill Clinton, to do humanitarian work overseas, notably in Thailand, where there are numerous sweet young things suffering in dire need. 
Spitzer could conceivably end up as a kind of Mother Teresa, summoned to meet with the pope in Rome to be knighted or even ordained as a bishop or cardinal of the church, notwithstanding the fact that he is, of course, Jewish.
New York’s new governor, a black politician named David Patterson, is legally blind.  He recently used that infirmity as a legal defense to contest a discrimination suit brought by a white civil service photographer who claims that Patterson dismissed him and replaced him by a person of color.  Patterson dismissed the charge as patently ridiculous.  His defense?  “I never saw him.”  (*He has also now confessed to philandering himself, as as his wife, and these are the people who guide New York morals!)
So, New Yorkers can be comforted that even though the short-lived Spitzer era has come to an end, life continues to unfold normally.

Dean Borok March 18th 2008

The Fun Part 03.07.08
Dean Borok

"Now comes the fun part." – Hillary Clinton at the initiation of her campaign to "define" Barack Obama

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