Giuliani Drops Out - "Time Isn't Right For My Brand Of Hardcore Nut-Jobbery..."

by Duke Amboy

God knows that - after the drubbing I took in our nation's capital - I would've gladly slunk off to a hole somewhere and tended my wounds (with or without the help of the "Itzi" girls). And I was Florida-bound.

But was it to hide away in my 1700 square-foot Art Deco condo on South Beach? (I'm not celebrityphobic enough to hide it from you - Sly Stallone lives five units down from me. (Of course, these days he's out on a campaign tour of his very own - hawking (and, boy howdy, isn't that the right term?) his monosyllabic hero's latest Fourth World shoot 'em up))

Of course it wasn't.

I was off to sunny Tallahassee. It was a three-way race: Romney, McCain, Giuliani.

(Huckabee - well, Mike was there. That's about all you could say for him.)

Who knew which candidate had auctioned his conscience and soul off to Satan for the highest bid? Only time (and the hop-headed anti-Castro soul of Florida's far-right) would tell.

The reality was (this is one of Rudy's favoritest expressions - hoping vainly to dupe the electorate into supposing that Rudy has a passing familiarity with such a creature)...

McCain took it all. Romney limped off, vowing (like the outbreak of a certain communicable disease - and no, it isn't chlamydia...) to turn up again - who knew where? who knew when?

And Rudy? Rudy went home. To whatever colored sky announces the dawn of a new day in Rudyland...

Doubtless he will bide his time. Plans are in place - even as we speak - to harness the forces of intolerance and xenophobia for another berzerk run at that big old brass ring in '12.

END OF DISPATCH