Plunder and thunder
BY PHILLIPE & JORGE
God, is there a bigger crook than Mayor Buddy "Vincent A." Cianci? Running the
entire city like a criminal enterprise, taking kickbacks, and knocking back
shots of Scotch with his eternally burning cigarette, hanging at the Biltmore
and checking out the babes? What a disgrace, and good riddance now that a jury
of his peers had the guts to make the right call about this two-bit hoodlum.
People ought to be in mourning, now that a bogus conviction in the Vo Dilun
trial of the century has smeared the best damn mayor that Providence has ever
had. A bunch of illiterate and incompetent stooges passing for jurors were ably
abetted by a headhunting operation that had it in for our sainted mayor right
from the start. The RICO statute was used to put the engineer of Providence's
Renaissance behind bars on the flimsiest charge we've ever witnessed.
The thing that really annoys us about Buddy Cianci is how he takes all the
credit for rejuvenating Our Little Towne, when everyone knows there are plenty
of other people who deserve the praise, and Buddy just gloms all the limelight
and headlines for himself.
Providence would still be in the toilet without the vision, drive, and
24-hour-a-day energy that Buddy Cianci brought to the job. Instead, thanks to
the Bud-I, we have a thriving art community, a municipal renovation that is a
model for American cities, a vibrant tourism industry, flourishing restaurants
that draw national attention, and a TV show based on our glowing reputation.
Really, anyone who thinks Buddy C. didn't have his hand in everything that
went on at City Hall -- especially matters of money -- is a total moron. The
Bud-I is a petty tyrant who has pulled more strings than a marionette master,
and he no doubt micro-managed every crooked deal that went down, taking his cut
right off the top.
Can you believe that the longest-serving mayor in the US, a living local
legend, got taken down by the bunch of low-rent underlings who were doing all
this wheeling and dealing behind his back, and implicated Buddy just to save
their own asses? It's an absolute disgrace, and there's no more wronged man in
the entire country than our Buddy.
It's never all black and white, now is it, kids? What a circus.
Looking for a little head
Is there any joke involving "a little head" that went untold when doctors gave
Dubya Bush a colonoscopy? You just can't make this stuff up.
P&J also hope that you were as relieved as we were to learn that Big Time
Cheney was actually the ruler of this nation for about two hours on Saturday,
June 29. Along with the detestable and frightening John Ashcroft, Big Time is
possibly the most abhorrent and dangerous man on the planet, and the idea of
him being "in charge" of the country makes the prospect of Al Haig running the
US almost seem like a reasonably good idea.
P&J still wonder why the Democrats in Washington don't continually hammer
Dubya, Big Time, and Ashcroft for their duplicitous, conflicted and
Constitution-dismantling activities. The members of this troika constantly
misrepresent their behavior and programs, such as purportedly helping to
relieve HIV/AIDS in Africa, or ostensibly aiding the elderly with drug
prescriptions (by subsidizing insurance companies!?!). Actually, the trio is at
all times acting as trained poodles for the corporations that line the GOP's
pockets with what are, in essence, bribes, not "donations."
It's absolutely sickening, and were the Dems not almost equally conflicted, or
too politically correct to knee their GOP counterparts in the nuts, they would
be calling them out on these actions day and night. Don't forget absolutely
bizarre behavior, like Dubya supposedly choking on a pretzel; Ashcroft singing
songs to his staff and covering up the tits on a statue; and Cheney's shameful
vote in Congress against a US resolution asking the South African government to
free Nelson Mandela from his Robben Island prison cell. This was a moment of
bald racism of which every black voter in the country should be reminded, along
with Dubya's infamous Bob Jones University arse-licking of unspeakably
intolerant and demented radical conservatives.
The American public needs more than a wake-up call and not only at election
time, so get on the ball Dickie Gephardt and Tommy Daschle.
Big Jack
Speaking of Democrats who actually possess cojones, Phillipe and Jorge
were pleased to bump into our old and admired friend, Senator Jack Reed, at
East Ferry Deli in Jamestown last Sunday, June 30. It might surprise our
readers to learn about a slight difference in our activities for the day. Jack
had been out kayaking with his buddies, as befits a former Army man. Meanwhile,
your superior correspondents were lounging in front of the TV at Casa Diablo
since 6:30 a.m., watching the World Cup final, beating out samba rhythms on
conga drums, sucking down caipirinhas and chanting "Bra-zeel, Bra-zeel!"
with our Latin American lawn and garden crew, whom we let inside the main house
just for the occasion.
(Gentleman Jack also came to the rescue when Phillipe's new cell phone rang in
his pocket, startling the superior correspondent and causing momentary
hysterics about how to answer it. "Just push the button," the solon quietly
intoned, as Phillipe finished his Butterfly McQueen impersonation in front of a
crowd of baffled onlookers.)
P&J are proud of Vo Dilun's own Little Big Man for his work on the Senate
committee that recently rebuffed one of Dubya Bush's typically absurd high-tech
weapons programs, a seeming large-scale adaptation of Star Wars-style
laser swords. The proposed weaponry isn't even a reality, yet it remains on the
drawing board. Sure, let's give Darth Vader a bigger and better cutlass, which
may or may not function when he hits the switch, and line the pockets of
defense contractors for spit-balling ideas, rather than helping out needy human
beings. As John Mulligan pointed out in the Urinal on Monday, July 1, it was
Little Big Man at his best, paying attention, doing his homework, and not being
afraid to point out -- politely as always -- that the emperor has no clothes.
One interesting sidelight is that as we spoke to Jack, who seems like a
permanent fixture on the political scene, talk naturally came around to the
Incredible Exploding Bud-I. As we discussed the mayor's tenure, Reed pointed
out that when Vincent A. was first elected, the future senator was still a
platoon leader in the Army, jumping out of airplanes with his fellow
paratroopers.
It was an amazing way to think about just what an imprint the Bud-I has left
on the Vo Dilun scene. And as P&J mulled that over, we thought about what a
sharp contrast Jack represents, but one no less important or enduring. It's an
honor to know the man.
The winners
Because of the Bud-I's popularity, the US Attorney's office in general and lead
prosecutor Richard Rose, in particular, have been the targets of scurrilous
rumors and nasty comments. One thing that Phillipe & Jorge have always
believed is that Margaret Curran, Richard Rose, Terrence Donnelly, and the rest
of the crew at the US Attorney's office, are honest, good, and passionate
public servants.
It could be that Mr. Rose's passion got the better of him at times, but no one
is going to convince us that he's vindictive or involved in anything other than
doing his job to the best of his abilities. These abilities have proven
formidable. Up against arguably one of the most skillful trial lawyers in the
United States (Mr. Egbert), Richard Rose proved his mettle.
A few weeks back, your superior correspondents were at a birthday celebration
for a dear friend of ours who had just turned 50. Another guest was one of the
Biggest Little's finest lawyers (whose name we will not divulge). Naturally,
conversation turned to the trial, which was just wrapping up at the time. The
lawyer offered the opinion that although he thought the defendants would be
found not guilty on many of the charges, "Richard Rose put on a brilliant
prosecution." Our friend thought Richard did a masterful job of tying all the
strands of the conspiracy together in an extremely complicated case. He was
right.
Bye, boys
Flags to half-mast at Casa Diablo, due to the loss of two unforgettable
characters.
The first was the wonderful John Entwistle of the Who, simply one of the
finest rock bands of all time, and progenitors of witty, intelligent, and
bizarre songs such as "Mary-Ann with the Shaky Hands" and "Pictures of Lily."
Entwistle, one of the best bass players in the business, also served as the
anchor for the band, maintaining some slight sanity amidst the likes of Pete
Townshend and Keith Moon, while still contributing to off the wall tunes, like
"Boris the Spider" and the absolutely terrific "My Wife." Thanks for the
memories, John.
Also, P&J belatedly learned of the death of an old pal, Chris Sexton, the
larger-than-life figure who bartended for years at the legendary Fanelli's on
Prince Street in New York's SoHo, which, prior to the yuppification of the
area, maintained the status of a home-away-from-home for the post-grad RISD and
Brown lunatic fringe. We well remember the feigned look of disgust and snide
comments that Sexton would make while looking down the bar and seeing nothing
but Little Rhody transplants. Chris was a wonderful friend and a quintessential
New Yorker, and when he met St. Peter, he probably did end up "shaking like a
whore in church." You're missed, big guy.
Ask us anything!
Since your superior correspondents, Phillipe & Jorge, have been writing
this column for 22 years, a lot of information has passed through the doors of
Casa Diablo. As former President Richard M. Nixon used to say, "It would be
wrong" not to share some of the knowledge and wisdom we've accumulated
throughout the years with you, our reading public.
Therefore, we're instituting a new feature, called "Ask us anything!", in the
"Cool, Cool World." That's right, you can now ask us anything about any subject
in the world, and we in turn will share the vast warehouse of knowledge that is
tucked away in our collective brain. All you have to do is send your queries in
via e-mail (p&j[a]phx.com) or through the US Postal Service c/o Phillipe
& Jorge, the Providence Phoenix, 150 Chestnut St., Providence, RI
02903. Any question, any topic. Your superior correspondents promise to do our
best to answer all inquiries.
Send seafood platters and Pulitzer-grade tips to p&j[a]phx.com.
Issue Date: July 5 - 11, 2002
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