Monday, July 26, 2010
Plate 1: There he is again, really crying this time
Yes, the future Lord Hayward of Greaseshire will be fading into the safety of a complimentary flight on Emirates to join the stalwart expats on the shores of another, grander Gulf, where the infinitely more attractive titbits of Khayyamic breadfruits and winejugs shall replace putrid Cajanic hog-chitlins and batpiss-lager.
But touch your pleasures lightly, tip top Tone, for your legacy shall be a lasting one. Of course, you could do what that other tip topper with the same casual diminution of Anthony, Tony Blare did: turn your knees toward Rome and swear fealty to Pope Ratz, and he will exonerate you from this point on.
No longer satrap of BeaPee, your name will join Gen. Dyer's and others in the Hall of Dubious Fame, and, unlike the victims of the Gulf Disaster, at least you know what your destiny is to be.
At least the Mainstream Media seem to be treating Tony with deserved contempt, though they do so now when it's safe. He's a Bernie Madoff, to be sure, but let's hope that when his Russian Exile gets to be oppressive, he'll rat on all the slimekicks below his throne who were the actual players in BP's Titus-Andronicusian trail of carnage.