A number of New York crooks and their lawyers could be forgiven for indulging in a little schadenfreude last night at Governor Spitzer's oblique confession to having consorted with a prostitute. After picking up glittering prizes at Princeton and Harvard, the governor set out on a brilliant legal career in which he liked to pose as a combination of Mob buster Eliot Ness and class warrior Robin Hood. Time magazine even named him "Crusader of the Year."...Prosecuting Himself, Nicholas Wapshott, The New York Sun, 3/11/2008
That schadenfreude was visible on the subway this morning at 6:30 when the writer was on his way to work, people howling with laughter at the headlines and the stories -- hell, the spectre of the Lone Ranger partying with a high-end tart. Fact was, though, that the Love Gov had a powerful, impressive start, with the sky (i.e. the White House) a reasonable goal.
Ah, but don't play Saint Michael in New York City. People will be looking for you, down the avenues and streets, in the clubs and bars, and with relentless fury. Every Assistant DA, professional and amateur sleuth, not to mention the crowds who love to see a public burning, were waiting for a fall. No one but the poor woman married to the Love Gov was crying. And I doubt very much that people were weeping when Savanarola was torched in a public square in Florence either.
Wapshott's article, however, should be required reading in public schools and public and private universities. This is what really happens in politics. Forget the thirty second spots and the endorsements. Stick with what they actually do.
Word is that the Love Gov's favorite Senator was rather silent about all this. One can't imagine why.