How low can you go?

Well, we sure showed that pesky Saddam Hussein a thing or two, didn't we? He's just quaking in his boots over in Iraq, having been treated to a free three-day fireworks show that didn't damage a hair on his head. We guess Big Boy Billary all of a sudden realized that he was impotent and struck out. Only problem is that Saddam's still in the basement, mixin' up the medicine.

So what are our next steps? Don't ask President Billary, Clinton manqué Tony Blair, Madeleine "I'm Jewish?" Albright, cigar-store-Indian-on-sabbatical William Cohen or anyone at the Pentagon, because there is, of course, no future strategy. Indeed, the only driving force behind this impotent attack was a sorry and contemptible attempt to get Billary's ass out of the impeachment sling. And, boy, that worked like a charm, didn't it? How low this lying Lothario will go is yet to be seen, but he's brushing his teeth with the gutter right now.

Of course, while we greased 25 innocent Iraqis in our made-for-TV bombing attacks, the fun for Americans and other Westerners begins now. The tacit belief by our commander-in-chief and his brass-hatted cohorts that Muslim lives aren't worth as much as an American's was gruesomely apparent in Billary's non-blinking decision to try and turn attention away from his own problems through a healthy dose of Monica's Missiles on Baghdad. And doing so just before Ramadan, the Muslim holy days, was even more perverse.

Although the bombing ended before Ramadan officially began, that argument is about as valid as saying, "We just bombed America on Christmas Eve, not Christmas." Muslims take Ramadan very seriously, and this added dire insult to injury.

Who will pay?

Ask some of the folks at the embassies in Nairobi and Dar es Salaam. Forty-four US embassies worldwide have been shut down, supposedly for the holidays (including Ramadan in predominantly Muslim countries). But this clearly was done as a safety precaution. And it was sure thoughtful of Slick Willie to piss off terrorists on the eve of the busiest traveling time in America. Feel like hanging around airports for the next two weeks, anyone? Didn't think so.

If terrorist bombs do go off and kill our citizens during the next month, Bill Clinton will have that blood on his hands. Will he admit to it? Sure, just like he's been so truthful about his romantic liaisons. Seems like while Saddam Hussein is emerging from his bunker somewhere, Clinton is burrowing into his own, unable to act or even admit the truth to himself.

Maybe he should give war criminal and mass murderer Henry Kissinger a call and find out how effective Dr. Strangelove's bombing of Cambodia was during the Christmas/Tet holidays. Or did we lose that war, too?

The week from Hell

Meanwhile, in Washington Bill "Disgrace the Nation" Clinton's impeachment on Saturday tested the American public's rapidly diminishing attention span (unlike the war in Iraq, which Clinton conveniently wrapped up in a few days). And we have the equally disgraceful Republicans to thank for the spectacle in DC, particularly Henry Hyde, the Hard-on Hammurabi who led the GOP forces and is famous for describing his adulterous affair at age 50 as a "youthful indiscretion."

But first, we were treated to the announcement by newly elected Speaker of the House Bob Livingston that he was stepping down. The reason? Hustler magazine's impending disclosure of his three or four adulterous affairs. And even more surreal was the sight of Tom "The Hammer" DeLay choking back tears as he blurted out, "There is no greater American in my mind, at least today, than Bob Livingston . . . . "

We're not sure if the "greatness" DeLay was referring to was Livingston's falling on his own sword or Bob's ability to score with so many women. Overall, it's comforting to know that both Democrats and Republicans "voted their consciences" and were doing it all for "the children."

Don't think for a second that the current spate of sexual McCarthyism (somewhat of an oxymoron, since the original McCarthyism was awash in sexual recriminations and blackmail) in our nation's capital is about to subside. In fact, over the weekend, the nation's chat shows featured right-wing pundits endlessly alluding to ominous information stored in the Ford Building in Washington, leading to conjecture that there are even more unproven allegations about Wet Willie out there.

Meanwhile, Larry Flynt claims that his million-dollar bounty-for-dirt on Congress has turned up lurid info on at least 11 other representatives. It's a beautiful way to run a government, no? If there is an upside to all of this, it's that all these dicks and guns being waved about make the likelihood of electing a woman president all the greater.

Gerbergate revisited

Last week, we were a little too easy on the Pine/DiPrete plea agreement. The fact is that allowing Eddie to work in the family business while on work-release from prison blatantly violates present prison policy, and your superior correspondents should have noted this. Obviously, this will not do, and we, along with most Vo Dilunduhs, believe that this outrageous discrepancy ought to be addressed. If this is out of the Judge Darigan's hands because the deal already has been cut, we implore the Corrections Department to make the appropriate adjustments.

The oft-cited and cherished principle of "equal justice under the law" is always mentioned in cases like this. And the reality is that you get what you pay for. Let's face it, if it weren't for his money and clout, O.J. would be bum-blasting Chuck Manson in the Big House for his recreation rather than getting his exercise on the golf course.

The Gerbster won a relatively soft deal because he had the resources to hire top-quality criminal attorneys who could force the issue. Money is a primary fact of life, and as hard as we try to seek balance and justice in this world, it will always play a role in subverting virtually everything.

Around Our Little Towne, Christmas week, 1998

When did it become the conventional wisdom in Vo Dilun that any time a structure needs to be demolished, we should call Hollywood and see if anyone's interested in blowing it up? . . . Nice to see a letter to the editor published in last Friday's New York Times from none other than local music legend Mark Cutler . . . A big thank you to the BeloJo for finally straightening out the fact that Luigi Mannochio's official street nickname is "Baby Shacks" and not "Baby Shanks." Nothing could be more embarrassing in Vo Dilun than getting Mob nicknames wrong . . . Congrats to the genius-types scurrying around trying to promote a retrial for Jeffrey Hornoff, a convicted murderer and former Warwick cop. Apparently, their latest excuse is that Craig Price did it. Hey, maybe everybody else at the ACI will pick up on this and demand a retrial for all major felonies committed during the '80s.

Wanted: a few good men

P&J are delighted with the news that the Catholic Archdiocese of Milwaukee is now using billboard ads -- and hoping to run some spots on MTV -- to recruit young priests. "Work with the World's Greatest Boss" (Bill Ankner, head of the DOT?) and "Join the REAL men In Black" are two of the catchiest phrases the Church is using to target the 18- to 25-year-old crop of potential men of the cloth. Funny, but we thought the church would go with what P&J have always considered the biggest attractions, including "Wear a Dress Everywhere and Avoid Getting Beaten Up," "It's a Great Way to Meet Young Boys" and, our old favorite, "There's No Place Like Rome." Oh well, we figure they're still new at the marketing angle.

Thanks

Finally, happy holidays to all of our readers and especially to our editors, Jody Ericson and Lou Papineau, who keep as tight a rein as possible on our transgressions here in Our Little Towne, and to Boston's Peter Kadzis, who has done an excellent job at keeping us out of jail for nearly two decades. And let's not forget the Providence Phoenix's head honcho, Steve Brown, who must apologize for our brutal attacks on local public figures on a regular basis. They are all kind and good people, so why the hell they associate with us we'll never understand.

Best wishes, too, to all our covert sources who feed us a steady supply of outrages and deceits being perpetrated in the Biggest Little all year long, and to the Phoenix's advertisers, especially those who sell sexually-oriented products and services, pay more, and give the paper its outlaw cachet. Merry happy to one and all.

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