Never could figure out why people are so enamored of Anthony Weiner in the first place, but the latest episode of compulsive behavior should put a dent in his unquenchable ambitions. Not that people’s sexual behavior should be of particular interest to voters—after all, Mayor Koch successfully protected his personal closet throughout his three terms and later life despite his habit of throwing his undies in the faces of guys he had just met (including one of my former bosses).
But Weiner demonstrably has a screw loose to have thought nothing of sending more racy photos by phone to his female conquests AFTER making himself a national laughingstock the first time. You have to wonder about the long-suffering wife pitching in to save his sorry ass instead of saying, Let’s go home.
My own objection to Weiner is not his randy sex life—perish the thought—but his opportunistic and unfortunately very skillful usage of every hot-button issue that pops up. The guy is a non-stop PR machine, deploying techniques learned at the knee of sleazebag Charles Schumer, but there’s nothing behind it except personal ambition. In fact, Weiner is a virtual reincarnation of Koch—aggressive and mean-spirited, but also wise-cracking and just entertaining enough to make New Yorkers laugh and give him a pass.
If Weiner had been born in Alabama, he’d be a starlet on the Tea Party circuit denouncing taxes and gun control. He has a lot of psychic energy, and now we can see once again—in case we missed it the first time—that it comes from being cuckoo. It’ll be good to see him back out of the mayor’s race or get beaten at the polls, but we can also count on him to pop up again for a new electoral cycle after the latest mess dies down—the man can’t help himself.
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