The current issue of New York Magazine thru one Stephen Rodrick profiles former Massachusetts Governor William Weld at the outset of his quixotic campaign for the Governorship of New York.
Due mention is made of Big Bill's eccentric stump style, the drinks that never leave his hand, the tendency to spout classical gibberish and his remarriage to a second rate novelist.
However for all his hauteur and blind self confidence Bill sounds thoroughly lost from where Humble Elias is sitting.
Truly the man belongs to a bygone age, one composed of blow jobs, policy incrementalism, terror amidst crackhouses and "welfare reform".
Bill Weld is a symbol, the leading edge of the baby boomer's slide into irrelevance, impotence and dotage.
Honestly there is not a better harbinger of approaching senescence than the urge to re-live some fanciful youthful triumph.
Weld is the sort of easygoing ne'er do well loafer who could only prosper under the hardwon prosperity even protection of a Bill Clinton.
His is a politics of short agendas, long weekends and flippant answers and as such Weld is utterly at sea in today's world of big issues, ideological warfare, terrorism and terror tacticians.
They say Weld is running on his prosecutorial bona fides and his zeal to jail miscreants...and yet this "passion" for justice laid not one finger on the Bill Bulger back in the day of the Massachusetts' Senate President's morbid ascendancy.
And anyway, how can Bill Weld run as a "statesman' when he has done nothing since 1996 except cut, run and get loaded?
Supposedly, Bill Weld wept when he lost to John Kerry back in 1996.
Maybe he did, but he wasn't crying because he'd lost his chance to do big things in DC, no he shed tears because he'd missed out on joining the last Great Gentleman's Club wherein drunken gasbaggery is no particular sin.
We live in serious times, our rights are threatened from without and within...and Bill Weld is about as serious as Road Runner Cartoon.
Take Heed Empire State.
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