Mr. Mature at the helm

Hats off to House Speaker Bill "Mr. Mature" Murphy for trying to play slumlord by ordering former speaker Pucky Hardwood and current House Majority Whip Rene Menard out of their offices, because they are no longer bronzing their noses in his buttocks. Imagine someone suggesting that West Warwick’s chief casino shill — who looked like an idiot when Joe Larisa, former legal advisor and chief of staff to Governor Bigfoot, and now counsel to Governor "The Don" Carcieri, pulled down his pants in public (before the state Supreme Court, no less) — might not have the goods to lead the hind leg-balancing crew at Halitosis Hall.

Only in the Biggest Little could you get this kind of arrogant, petulant, and downright childish behavior from the man who may well have the most political clout in the state. Pucky packed up and left, while Menard rightly refused to move until the Democratic caucus backs up Speaker Mature by voting to deny their support for him as the third-ranking Dem in the House. Unfortunately, there was no photographer there to record for posterity Hardwood toting away a cardboard box full of the memorabilia of the fabulous legacy he left from his years at the top: old hockey sticks, Fenway Park ticket stubs, credit card bills from Capriccio and the Capital Grille, half a 30-pack of Bud Lite and back issues of Mad.

Hang in there, Rene. P&J will sneak in food, water, and comic books during Speaker Mature’s afternoon nap, right after his warm bottle of baby formula and Gerber’s creamed peas. Sleep tight, too, Roger Williams.

'VICE' FIRST LADY?

While Phillipe & Jorge would hardly consider superior behavior by either sex a vice, the right-wing fundamentalists who are so enamored of Dubya Bush and "Big Time" Cheney might disagree heartily. That is why, along with how GOP gutter-crawlers continue to target Teresa Heinz Kerry, we will now address the quite talentless, but steamy writing career of the vice president’s wife, Lynne Cheney.

Lynne, you may remember, is the Philistine harridan who was chairman of the National Endowment for the Humanities from 1986 to 1992. Her oxymoronic sense of humanity is what no doubt led her to go into total denial during the 2000 presidential campaign about how one of her daughters, Mary, is gay. Asked by Cokie Roberts on a television show about having a daughter, Mary, who has "declared she’s openly gay," a flustered Lynne Cheney shot back, "Mary has never declared such a thing." Unfortunately, Mary had already come out very publicly as a lesbian, and was actually the gay and lesbian corporate relations manager for Coors Brewing Co. at the time. Good to know you are keeping tabs with your kids, Lynne.

This revealing bit of Mommy’s psyche notwithstanding, perhaps she wanted to be like sisters with her superior child. In fact, Sisters is the title of the piece of literary trash Lynne Cheney wrote in 1981, when she got her lusty lesbian fantasies off her chest, so to speak. Her protagonist breathes heavily in the prose, saying to her dear female companion:

"Let us go away together, away from the anger and imperatives of men. We shall find ourselves a secluded bower where they dare not venture. There will be only the two of us, and we shall linger through long afternoons of sweet retirement. In the evenings I shall read to you while you work your cross-stitch in the firelight. And then we shall go to bed, our bed, my dearest girl."

This makes P&J wonder who’s sharing the bed with Lynne on those nights when hubby Dick is hunkered down in his secret bower, er, excuse us, secure location. Didn’t recognize whose high heels were under the bed when you got home, Big Time? Honey, who left the lipstick on my Halliburton coffee cup?

(Note: Speaking of our chicken hawk veep, in an article in the September issue of Vanity Fair, about politicians invoking the Vietnam War, David Halberstam offers a suggestion to John Kerry for times when issues regarding that war are raised, especially by Big Time. Simply mention the [at least] five times when Big Time received the deferments he sought to avoid having to join the service and doubtless see the wonders of war in Indochina. Of course, current US Attorney General John Ashcroft, the religious freak and foe of civil liberties, who was at Yale until he graduated in 1964, eventually beat Cheney’s deferment record, piling up seven of his own while hiding under his bed at home. Pussies of the first water, just like Dubya, the AWOL Guardsman. How many GIs dead today, tough guys? Oh, that’s right — it wasn’t you.)

GREEK COMEDY

There has been enough coverage of the 2004 Olympics on the NBC Universal networks from Telemundo and Bravo to NBC to choke a centaur, but at least it provides some wonderful highlights in the 24/7 Greek Festival viewing room at Phillipe & Jorge’s Casa Diablo. After all the "How do you separate the men from the boys in the Greek Navy?" jokes were traditionally invoked amid a gala buffet of moussaka and felafel washed down with ouzo and grapefruit, our closest friends in jockstraps and us started to pay attention to the more poignant moments of this epic event.

First, kudos to NBC Olympics host Bob Costas, who paid personal tribute to the return of the event to Greece, which hosted the first modern Olympics in 1896. Bobby apparently committed to displaying (or more appropriately hiding) his ethnic roots by seemingly using a bottle of Grecian Formula per day to turn his graying hair practically black. Costas is obviously fighting a huge case of mid-life crisis, and will doubtless be Botoxing himself into the unchanging visage of a Greek drama mask by the end of the games, as time and the work load wears upon his boyish features, much to his horror.

From P&J’s quick poll of viewers, there was no one who didn’t exult in the absolute bitch-slapping our men’s basketball team took from Puerto Rico in the opening game 19-point loss. This was humiliation for a bunch of brainless, arrogant punks who got ass-whipped on an international stage by a determined bunch of athletes, playing with pride for their country — a concept seemingly as alien to our NBA all-star egotists as gaining a college (or even high school) diploma. (Although the team does have noted essayist and former URI "student" Lamar Odom, whose book of collected three-paragraph short stories will soon be published, along with a foreword by URI president Bob Carothers.)

At least Odom showed some class, which can’t be said of Tim Duncan, purportedly the best player in David Stern’s overrated and increasingly unwatched circus of dweebs, who played like his shoelaces were tied together, yet trash-talked the Puerto Rico players in the fourth quarter. This despite how the US was down 11 points, and proceeded to gutlessly and totally quit in the last two minutes. Put the headphones back on, insane clown posse.

CRIME BLOTTER

The story of how a former RI All-State athlete and former Olympic competitor apparently killed his wife and then committed suicide by leaping to his death from a college dormitory in Arkansas is heartbreaking and tragic. On Monday, the Other Paper’s headline read, "Former All-State athlete leaps to death in Arkansas," with the subhead, "Robert Howard, a medical student, is identified by the police as the suicide victim. His wife is also found killed."

Perhaps we’re being a little picky, but P&J believe that the continuing plague of domestic violence remains one of the most horrible facts of life in our country. It seems to us that Arkansas law enforcement believed this to be a murder-suicide case — an essential element of the story. The crafting of the headline and subhead seems, though, like, "And, oh, yeah, it also looks like he killed his wife first." Admittedly, your superior correspondents are far more advocates and partisans than journalists, and we make no apologies for that. But we believe the horrors of domestic violence are so profound that they need to be reflected in press reports when appropriate. This may be just our opinion, but we believe it has merit.

EAST SIDE BATTLE

P&J are among those who believe that the state would be better served by a more balanced legislature. From our point of view, the far too-often lockstep behavior of the Democratic majority in the House and Senate has not served our state well. We could (and probably will) name names and tell you about some of the Democratic legislators who deserve defeat, but like many here in the Biggest Little, we find ourselves with mixed feelings.

For instance, two Democrats, Art Handy and Elizabeth Roberts, represent the area where Jorge resides. To our way of thinking, these are two outstanding legislators, not part of the "usual gang of idiots," and Jorge plans to vote for both of them in November, because they are hardworking, honest, and thoughtful members of the General Assembly. Usually, the legislators we would most like to see defeated are those who tend to run unopposed.

This year, there looks like a tough choice on the East Side in Senate District Three. We have generally admired that district’s longtime senator, Rhoda Perry. However, a number of her votes in recent times have surprised us, particularly her vote in favor of the Vinny hotel scam. This year, she faces some serious opposition from Barry Fain, running as an independent. Barry is also a good friend and a longtime community activist. He is probably best known as the co-publisher of East Side Monthly and Providence Monthly. We know him to be honest, fair, and progressive — and the same is true of Rhoda Perry. Rhoda’s rating in Common Cause’s review of 34 votes (87.9) is almost the same as the Senate average (88.2). It’s also possible that Rhoda, as a longtime legislator, was under enormous pressure to support the hotel vote.

It will be interesting to see how the district votes in this contest. While we don’t endorse either candidate at this time, we believe Barry to a worthy alternative for progressive voters on the East Side. To loosely quote Ricky Ricardo, "Rhoda, you got some ’splainin’ to do."

Send shrimp toast and Pulitzer-grade tips to p&j@ phx.com.