Charlotte, I can’t say “I knew Jack Profumo and you, sir, are no Jack Profumo,” although I did meet Christine Keeler, once, long ago. I wrote an obituary of Profumo, and, in the course of it, noted the reason he quit — because he had lied to Parliament:
The denial was soon proven false, and that’s why Profumo resigned—not because he was untrue to his wife but because he was untrue to the House of Commons. The Westminster system—all the “my honorable friend,” “the noble Earl,” “the right honorable member opposite” stuff—is predicated on the assumption of integrity.
So, to one degree or another, is any healthy political culture. Whether or not tweeting your privates hither and yon is something sophisticates like David Gelernter are cool with, the malevolent toad Weiner has spent the last ten days lying to his constituents and to the American people on radio, TV, the Internet, and in print, trashing anyone who got in his way, from ideological foes like Andrew Breitbart to those CNN producers and ABC reporters who couldn’t quite bring themselves to swallow his guff. Those who did, such as George Soros’s head stenographer Eric Boehlert and Salon’s Joan Walsh made fools of themselves. They’re at least private-sector rubes. But Weiner also deployed his vast retinue of taxpayer-funded staffers in service of his lie.
Whatever one feels about the pants on fire, the liar ought to be an issue. Why would any sentient being believe a word the right honorable Weiner says about anything ever again? The debt ceiling, Libya, Medicare, anything? Look at what this thuggish narcissist grotesque was prepared to do over the last week, and ask yourself. If Weiner is fit for “public life,” who isn’t?