No contest

Although Pasquale "Pat" Cortellessa, the ill-fated would-be candidate for mayor of Our Little Towne, would have managed only token opposition to the mighty Bud-I machine, your superior correspondents (and a number of other people who actually believe in a little something we like to call "representative democracy") still would have appreciated an actual mayoral election in Providence rather than the upcoming coronation planned.

Yes, Mayor Vincent "Bud-I" Cianci certainly has his pluses and minuses, but considering his recent stewardship of the city, we're inclined to agree with the many who feel that he has earned another term. Still, the stench of how Cortellessa's campaign was undone by rabid challenges to his nomination paper signatures is a little tough to take.

Naturally, no one will find Hizzoner's fingerprints on any of the details, but when roving bands of City Hall employees are alleged to have traveled around town with city Democratic Party officials to question signatories of the papers and to berate them over whether they really signed, the implications are obvious.

Of course, the Bud-I would have won in a walk, but he also would have seen thousands of voters cast their ballots for "anyone but Cianci" -- and this would have offended the legendary rug-ed individualist's tender ego. This kind of stuff keeps those who, by and large, recognize and admire the talent, energy, and leadership abilities of the mayor from embracing the Bud-I wholeheartedly.

We're opposed to it

Speaking of unopposed elections, P&J remain stooped under the weight of the knowledge that fully 40 percent of Vo Dilun's General Assembly races will be unopposed this fall. If this were due to the fact that the best and brightest already own seats in the House and Senate, we would be less concerned. But when you realize that, in the past, this group has included such towering genii and ethical champions as Vinny "Family Man" Mesolella, "George of the Jungle" Caruolo, Harold "Amazin' " Metts, "Rubbers" Ruggerio, and Mabel "Mad Cow" Anderson, you feel like blowing your brains out.

There is much to be said for the old adage that if you care enough about it, you should run yourself. But until P&J decide to put Casa Diablo on the back of a trailer and head for Nawt or East Providence or Pahtucket, we'll keep getting the same old hacks with the 1880s social mentality and the 1980s greed. Looks like another write-in campaign for Bart Simpson.

Skinning the cat

The bad taste bell rang like a door buzzer this past weekend when one of our illustrious local TV news stations which we will not deign to name (but you know who you are, dahlings) ran the most tasteless clip we've seen in ages. No doubt believing that the many inquiring minds out there wanted to know what a decapitated cat hanging from a rope looked like, a TV news director who fancied himself a modern Herschell Gordon "2000 Maniacs" Lewis actually aired a photo of the unfortunate feline to satisfy his viewers' appetites.

While this screening of the result of a perverse act had been preceded by a warning about the graphic nature of its content, we couldn't fathom the value in showing a mutilated dead pet hanging from a makeshift noose. Did we simply fail to recognize the very subtle irony being suggested with the fact that the Capitol gunman, Russell Weston, was known to have killed cats as a boy?

As Phillipe and Jorge suggested in this space not long ago, rather than home in on Jerry Springer, the newly formed Rhode Island Society for Broadcasting in the Public Interest might do better to focus its attention on the abysmal state of local TV news (sic), which can't cover a story deeper than a flooded basement, and instead relies on car crashes in other states or local pet butchery to attract viewers.

It's a disservice to the public when a purported information service turns into a half-hour of nose-crinkling news anchors balancing airline explosions, dogs being cuddled, and cats being beheaded, and it's driving kids away from any sense of what's happening in the real world, from serious issues such as poverty and education in Rhode Island. Of course, those types of stories would require more than 30 seconds and a reporter with a positive IQ. Plus, no one would be visibly bleeding, so we're probably out of luck.

How about Warren G. Harding?

Phillipe and Jorge found our kinda gal down in East Hampton Village on Long Island, the chic summer vacation getaway for overbearing and obnoxious New Yorkers, Hollywood celebs, and, now, our very own President Billary.

Clinton will visit the place for a little R&R this weekend. And as is his wont, he probably will provide a village stroll photo op, venturing downtown to buy some books to read while he puts his feet up at Steven Spielberg's guarded, walled-in compound after a round of golf. (Of course, every putt inside 15 feet will be a gimme, while Clinton's caddy will look like Zinedine Zidane in the World Cup final, kicking balls out of the rough.)

But we digress. Valerie Smith, owner of a gift shop in East Hampton Village, has proclaimed that she welcomes the president's business, and will display two of her best-selling items: a Lincoln Bedroom bathrobe with a $250,000 price tag on it and President Billary cocktail napkins with the names Monica, Paula, Gennifer, and Kathleen on them. (This is almost as good as the cocktail napkin we once saw pinned up on the bulletin board at the exclusive Reading Room in Newport, which had "Betty Ford Clinic" embossed on it.)

As Smith told the New York Post, "I realize I should be respectful, because he is the president. But it's not exactly like it's Abraham Lincoln coming to town."

Sleep tight, Monica.

Is that a noose in my Rodeo Burger?

While we've all been pummeled ad nauseam by Burger King's latest television spots featuring an action figure paraphrasing the Jack Nicholson line from A Few Good Men ("You can't handle the Rodeo Burger!"), it seems that, out in western Oregon, they've had to make a few alterations to this most recent mind-numbing national promotion.

The campaign has a tie-in with current summer kiddie flick Small Soldiers, and part of the deal is the sale of action figures (i.e., violent boy dolls) at the fast-food franchises. Well, one of the primary action figures is a character called "Kip Killigan." And the similarity between Kip Killigan and "Kip Kinkel," the name of the teenager accused of killing his parents and two of his high-school classmates in an outburst of violence in Springfield, Oregon, last May, apparently left the burger ramrods in that part of the country a little uneasy.

Phillipe & Jorge find it interesting that, other than the uncomfortable juxtaposition of young Kinkel, no one seems to find the name Killigan (get it! Kill-again!) at all off-putting. You never can tell when an essentially harmless name like "Randy Riphisintestinesout" or Manny "Mowdowndemgooks" might inadvertently cause an uproar.

. . . under the 'Oh, what are you doing down there?'

Just in case you can't get enough of Phillipe & Jorge, let it be known that we'll be your ever-so-superior hosts at the mighty Gay Bingo at the Riviera Bingo Hall on Elmwood Avenue in Cranston on Thursday, August 6 at 8 p.m. If you haven't been to one yet, you're missing a fab time. The monthly gala helps support the programs of AIDS Project Rhode Island, and even non-superior types who like either a) laughter, b) bingo or, c) show tunes are cordially invited.

Kudos and congrats

. . . to a good friend of Casa Diablo, Mary Ann Sorrentino, who wrapped up nearly a decade-long run on WPRO-AM radio last week with strong ratings and words of thanks to her listeners. There is, of course, the matter of the feisty lady's (shall we say) "difference of opinion" with management at the station, but would you expect her to go any other way but in a blaze of controversy? Yes, at times she was abrasive, over-the-top, and constantly in-your-face, but that's style and Mary Ann most definitely knew how to run a talk-radio show. Knowing MAS the way we do, we feel quite certain that, although this particular show has finished its run, we haven't heard the last of her. She kept our blood pumpin'.

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