The Overdue Fall Of Rudy Noun Verb 9-11, Cont'd.

One of the most obvious characteristics of Rethuglican politics in the past 30 plus years has been the coarsening of their language, their policies and their leaders. Enabled by hacks like Lee Atwater and Karl Rove, and by a growing "nutwork" of right-wing media, the right-wing Rethug ecological system has given rise to minor league demagogues like Pat Buchanan and Sarah Palin. Now, they may have reached the nadir of nasty in their nominee, sociopathic liar Donald "Rump" Trump.

Rump's bullhorn racism / misogyny / xenophobia has embarrassed traditional Rethug figures, who prefer to use a dog whistle to deliver essentially the same messages. One Rethug, however, has not only stood by Rump in his present decline, but has doubled down on the vitriolic, poisonous rhetoric most often found on far-right blog comment threads: his despicable surrogate Rudy "Noun Verb 9-11" Giuliani. His frothing, almost deranged speeches and remarks are Rump on steroids. For example, his recent line of attack has been to reinforce the bogus "lock her up" mantra of the most fevered Rump supporters. On Philadelphia's WPHT radio,  Rudy 9-11 had this to say this morning:

"When I see (Clinton), I see her in an orange jumpsuit, I'm sorry, or at least a striped one. I'd have prosecuted her a year ago and probably convicted her by now."

So he continues to peddle this garbage, notwithstanding the FBI's investigative report on Secretary Clinton's e-mails which took many months to complete, and which cleared her of any security violations that could result in her prosecution (a report which he falsely claims was "cooked.")

This is the last hope for Rudy 9-11 in political terms. He failed to gain support in his 2008 run for the Presidency after a pathetic campaign, and now he's living vicariously in Rump's reflected orange glow, perhaps hoping for a Cabinet position in a Rump Administration. But at best, he always will be a small man in search of a balcony, looking for a crowd that will listen to his vicious ranting in the twilight of his life.