March 12th, 2008

1/2 Pound of Boymeat

Another unfullfilled fantasy.

It was a huge fantasy, I admit it. The chances of it actually happening were probably nil minus one, but damn, it was such a good fantasy. And as quickly as the idea was formed in my brain last night, all hopes for it was dashed this morning.

We all knew that Spitzer was done for. This much was a given. The rabid politicians in Albany, led by the head of the dog pack, Bruno, were going to be out for blood. There was no way Spitzer was going to have any future in politics whatsoever. None. Zero. Zilch.

And since Spitzer himself worked on establishing higher penalties for customers caught soliciting a prostitute, Spitzer basically had a bloody red bulls-eye painted on his chest.

And he knew it.

My fantasy was for Spitzer to struggle to stay in office just for a little bit more. Maybe sit through the impeachment hearings and try to serve in office for another few weeks, a month. Something. And in that time, for Spitzer to champion a major revise of current sex worker laws in NY State. He knew he was done! So instead of sitting down and being remembered as the guy who slept with a very expensive woman, he could have gone down for a guy who tried to abolish the penalties behind a crime he committed, but believed that in the long run shouldn't have been a crime in the first place.

Sure it would have never worked. Not in a million years. But could you imagine the press? Could you imagine newspapers like the New York Times and the New York Post, and all the pundits on CNN and FOX having to debate prostitution laws?  The national dialog that would have taken place?

OK, it was a crackhead fantasy. But it would have been great.
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