Do you remember Eliot Spitzer? He's most famous for his love of dirty hookers, but he also was governor of New York.
Here's a reminder:
Mrs. Spitzer, by the way, is my nomination for saint. See how she totally didn't stab her pathetic husband in the brain, then dance over his expiring organs? Saint Silda, patron saint of patience and sleeping on the couch.
The fallout from Spitzer's impressively bad decision-making is ongoing. First, he cost himself a chance of ever running for President. He cost himself the Attorney General's spot in Obama's Cabinet, which might be a step fown from NY state governor, unless you consider that being governor of New York, your only responsibility is that Mike Bloomberg's morning quadruple espresso is delivered piping hot promptly at 7:14, as stipulated by the New York city charter.
Spitzer also cost himself any future victory in any argument with anyone, ever.
"Did you pay the electric bill, Eliot?"
"Actually, Silda, that was on your pile of bills to pay."
"Oh that's right, I'm sorry. You're too busy writing checks to more hookers. Don't worry, El. I'll feed, clothe, and love our children. Go pay some disease-ridden sex slave 20 bucks to pee on your bald ugly head."
"Yes dear. Sorry honey."
Man, Spitzer family dinners must be awesome.
Another consequence of Spitzer's indiscression is a run of really annoying, mildly offensive David Paterson parodies by Fred Armisen on SNL:
Why I added it here I'm not sure. Maybe because I've been slack on my video clips, and I felt bad. To compensate with something actually funny, here's the Upright Citizens Brigade, and their Bucket of Truth.
Anyhoo, David Paterson is annoying and nowhere near as impressive as Eliot Spitzer. As a country, we lost some serious brain power when he had to resign and retire to a life of constantly being reminded of his love for dirty whores.
Fortunately, all that time being ignored by his wife and family have left him with some free time. And evidently he's putting it to good use, by writing to us from beyond his political grave. Spitzer's been writing for Slate.com, and it turns out he still knows what he's talking about.
It's a shame that we should lose his expertise simply over some silly misunderstanding about adultery and prostitution. At least he paid his taxes, right? That puts him one up on half of Obama's Cabinet. Plus, he hates corporations, and if we're going to do this socialism thing right, we need people who know how to hit companies right in the financial testicles.
And Spitzer knows a thing or two about testicles.
So here's my suggestion to Obama. On your desk, you've got the red phone for national security emergencies and late-night pizza deliveries (Bush's contribution to the speeddial list), your white phone for Congress, your green phone for Treasury, and your pimp phone for Canada, America's bitch.
I suggest adding another phone - your double-secret Dirty phone, for getting calls from disgraced experts. Douglas H. Ginsburg. Tom Daschle. And Eliot Spitzer. That way, we can still benefit from their knowledge, while you get deniability about your relationship with them.
And worse comes to worst, you can always have Secret Service shoot them.