Emptybottle.org

Rudy Giuliani. Rudy f--kin' Giuliani. I caught the last 10 minutes or so of his horrifying public deep-throat of his paymasters in the Fellato-drome as I was shovelling down my lunchtime bibimbap this afternoon. In the way of a good journalist -- which of course we know all bloggers aspire to be, with 'blog is to journalism as waffle iron is to pita bread' our battle cry -- I'm going to pretend that I watched the whole thing with rapt attention, rather than with one eye while I mixed a big dollop of gochu-jang into my rice.

What kind of man could this unhinged bastard be? That he actually believes the kinds of things he said, up there with his naked face hanging out, boggles the mind. It would seem, unlike the president whose steaming sidewalk turds he unhinged his jaw to gobble up -- whether in the name of tribal solidarity, or clean streets, or merely because we live in a world where public fabrication in the name of self-preservation trumps the lives of thousands, I don't know -- that he's not merely a stupid man. How could he possibly justify the audacity of the warispeace platitudes and outright howlers he lobbed out over the heads of the assembled herd animals in the pit? Most of the assembled groundlings, interestingly, appeared to be a little bemused and confused as they milled and mooed that there was a distinct absence onstage of naked Iraqis chained to the pillars or homos cruficied and bloody in front of the stars-and-stripes. Is it possible that the fog of bullsh-t that was emanating from this opportunist f--k up on stage was choking them, too? Perhaps not, but I'm eternally the optimist.

Really? Did you really do that, Rudy? And how, for the rest of your life, will be you able to live it down, if you actually did?

To Giuliani's credit, perhaps, was the look in his piggy little eyes as he limped his way through his clumsy litany of weasel-sh-t doubletalk. You could see it, if you looked closely: 'Help me!' his eyes seemed to be saying, while his mouth continued to force words out around the mechanically-reclaimed Republican meat that was occluding it. 'Let me the hell out of here! I've sold my soul and made a foul, demonic joke of my integrity, and the price wasn't high enough! There's no way back from this, and I'm nuts-deep in the toothy maw of the beast!'

But f--k him. He made his choice. He's a force for evil now, whether or not he ever was anything but. He's on the side of America! The! Great! America! Mom and apple pie! America! Freedom and equality for some! America! Commerce is honour! America! Hurry up and get those ovens finished, so we can get this Final Solution thing underway! America the proud torturers! America! With us or against us!

I have mentioned before that I'm against you, right, America?

Just so we're clear.