In keeping with our short attention-span culture, I've come to really like Anthony Weiner, despite penning a lengthy polemic here just a little over a month ago decrying him as the living, writhing, retching embodiment of every single thing that’s wrong with American culture as of the year 2013. Now don't get me wrong -- I still believe wholeheartedly that he is, in fact, the living, writhing, retching embodiment of every single thing that’s wrong with American culture as of the year 2013, but his futile ongoing campaign for the New York Mayor's seat has become such a desperate, Willy Loman-esque tragedy, that it's actually kind of entertaining to watch.
Weiner's latest minor PR disaster -- minor because not only is it not really that big a deal when compared with Face-banging co-eds two-at-a-time, but there's little he could do anymore that would surprise anyone -- involves his behavior during the West Indian Day parade in Brooklyn on Labor Day. After joining the various dancing girls and steel drummers who'd already mounted the giant rolling phallus otherwise known as the Weiner Float, Carlos Danger apparently got caught up in the moment, began swaying to the exotic Caribbean rhythms and then, of course, started talking like he was a Jewish Peter Tosh. It'd be easy to call the affected cliché-Jamaican patois he seems to involuntarily adopt "racist," but to be honest Weiner looks so fucking silly that it's tough to get angry about. Watching a middle-aged white doof pretend to be West Indian is so ridiculous -- as it is every time it's done for four days straight on your average Carnival cruise -- that you forget this particular middle-aged white doof is trying to be the mayor of America's largest city.
Behold the Prime Minister of Pander, Boob Marley:
On the plus side at least Weiner didn't whip out his penis in an attempt to impress the crowd. Although, admittedly, the embarrassment from that little miscalculation just might've been enough to shame him into hiding once and for all.