Thursday Reload: Rudy Giuliani

This edition of the TLS Thursday Reload is brought to us by TLS political analyst, The Blue Fox. A lifelong New Yorker who can barely breathe clean air without passing out cold, Fox writes from Billings, Montana, where he’s busy slurping ground beef soup and charting the next stage of the Democratic Party’s political ascendance.

Today, Fox’s target is antebellum Rudy Giuliani, the thin-lipped snake that we elites know and loathe. While the rest of the country may swallow Giuliani’s meretricious self-reinvention as Galactic Prefect of the Events of 9/11, longtime Nyers aren’t taking the bait.

Take it away, Blue Fox:

“Some of you have heard me rant about the pre-9/11 Rudy. In Slate.com, Jacob Weisberg makes the case that Rudy was "a frustrated and not very popular mayor on Sept. 10," but Weisberg overlooks some of His Honor's more exemplary moments. For instance, his crusade against the First Amendment, such as when he had a street artist repeatedly arrested for selling caricatures of Rudy as Hitler (tasteless, yes; illegal, no); his release of the sealed juvenile records of a man who was accidentally shot by cops in order to impugn the victim; or his steamrolling of community gardens mere hours before he knew a court was scheduled to decide their fate in a case in which the city was a party. Then again, a retelling of Rudy's 1-27 record in the courts defending himself in civil liberties suits might rival Gibbon for length.

“If America's dismay over the state of the Bush Presidency is rooted in disapproval of Bush's chest-thumping foreign policy, intolerance of dissent, and aggrandizement of executive power, Rudy is not the antidote. In fact, on each of those counts if nothing else, his pre-9/11 mayoralty suggests he might just be worse.”

OK, last one.

This is Kasey Kahne's haul trailer. I post it because he's my godson Eli's favorite driver. Unlike marquee Chevy drivers Tony Stewart, Dale Jr, and Jimmie Johnson, Dodge's Kahne actually finished the race, which works in his favor.

My last Florida picture, then I'm clearing the decks

On the ground is Jason Shapiro, the chief of Tony Stewart's #20 car. We're pre-race, waiting in line to get the rear springs and restrictor plate installed, then a full inspection. Jimmie Johnson's 48 car is in front of us, and Dale Jr's 8 is behind us. All three would wreck later in the day.

In the garage earlier that morning, the 20 car was up on blocks, and Jason unpacked his fly rod to kill time. They were feeling good about the car, so Jason cast a fly under the 20 car, which was up on blocks, and into the open lug drawer of the tool case on the far wall - a feat that spanned 40 feet and defied physics. When he's not chiefing the 20 car forty weeks a year, Shapiro catches bass. Lots of them.

The Ironman Cometh

Cal Ripken Jr. was nice enough, with a splashier wit than you might expect from a Hall of Fame athlete who played in 2,131 consecutive games. He told me that he's going through a midlife crisis, "but all that's off the record, muchacho." The woman taking this picture screwed up the first two attempts (there was too much light behind us, as you can see). Before each shot, I heard Cal say, under his breath, to himself: "Cheeeeeese".

I guess this is what the internet's for...

I don't actually know anything about NASCAR, but I'm in the pits for the Daytona 500 anyway. This morning I drove the track and hung out with a couple drivers. Then look who showed up with her big ol' butt: Kelly Clarkson. I don't know anything about American Idol either, but she has a big, well-armed bodyguard. And that makes her photographable.

Your tactics, they intrigue me...

The Friday Morning Impasse:

Who appreciates an acid attack more than The Long Shot? Who has more respect for activists that bounce around in extremely hostile waters, endangering themselves to protect endangered whales? Finally, who fucking loves whales? Who fucking hates whaling ships? TLS does. TLS does. So when the BBC reported the acid-attack-with-a-happy-ending story from Antarctica today, we decided to preserve it in our little bubble of internetian amber. The alignment of forces rings clear as crystal, sharp as a diamond.

Witness:
Two activists - one American, one Australian - splash acid onto the deck of a Japanese whaling ship. The two vessels collide, and the activists' inflatable dinghy disappears in the cold roiling seas, lost in the wintry fog.

Eventually they are found (assisted by the acid-splashed, blubber-sodden whaling ship, of course) and served steaming mugs of fair trade tea aboard their mothership, the SS Farley Mowat, which is named after a great, late Canadian author, and evidently an environmentalist of some renown.

Wondering what's the point of this post? Me too. I've actually forgotten whose side I'm on. Naturally whaling is a fiendish thing to do, but I was being ironic when I said TLS appreciates acid-splashing. What I meant to say is I acknowledge acid-splashing as an offensive weapon. And while I'm sure those activists are keeping it real, the detail of them sipping fair trade tea (which I, umm, made up) makes them seem like weenies, doesn't it? This Friday Morning Impasse might be a good example of why blogs are dumb. I relent.