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Monday, March 15, 2010
The Rielle Hunter InterviewWas obviously set up to portray her and the Silky Pony rather favorably. My first impression of Hunter, when she opened the back door of the screened porch filled with toys and strollers in the three-bedroom house she is renting (for $1,500 a month), her hair pulled up in a scrunchy, was that she was much prettier, and a whole lot softer, than all those National Enquirer spy photos suggest. We learn that she calls him Johnny: I feel comfortable talking now, because Johnny went public and made a statement admitting paternity. I didn't feel like I could ever speak until he did that. Because had I spoken, I would have emasculated him. And I could not emasculate him. Also, it is not my desire to teach my daughter that when Mommy's upset with Daddy, you take matters into your own hands and fix Daddy's mistakes. Which I view as one of the biggest problems in all female-and-male relationships. Check out the goofy, softcore porn photos of Rielle here. Labels: John Edwards, Rielle Hunter
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Least Surprising News of the DayJohn Edwards: It's my kid. I am Quinn’s father. I will do everything in my power to provide her with the love and support she deserves. I have been able to spend time with her during the past year and trust that future efforts to show her the love and affection she deserves can be done privately and in peace. Labels: John Edwards, Rielle Hunter
Monday, January 11, 2010
Edwards the MonsterGood lord, what a tawdry tale the whole J ohn Edwards/Elizabeth Edwards/Rielle Hunter saga turns out to be. The Silky Pony comes off pretty poorly: Many of his friends started noticing a change—the arrival of what one of his aides referred to as “the ego monster”—after he was nearly chosen by Al Gore to be his running mate in 2000: the sudden interest in superficial stuff to which Edwards had been oblivious before, from the labels on his clothes to the size of his entourage. But the real transformation occurred in the 2004 race, and especially during the general election. Edwards reveled in being inside the bubble: the Secret Service, the chartered jet, the press pack, the swarm of factotums catering to his every whim. And the crowds! The ovations! The adoration! He ate it up. In the old days, when his aides asked how a rally had gone, he would roll his eyes and self-mockingly say, “Oh, they love me.” Now he would bound down from the stage beaming and exclaim, without the slightest shred of irony, “They looooove me!” Saint Elizabeth does even worse: With her husband, she could be intensely affectionate or brutally dismissive. At times subtly, at times blatantly, she was forever letting John know that she regarded him as her intellectual inferior. She called her spouse a “hick” in front of other people and derided his parents as rednecks. One time, when a friend asked if John had read a certain book, Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Oh, he doesn’t read books,” she said. “I’m the one who reads books.” It's an amazing read, but keep in mind that the sources for it are from the Edwards campaign and have a vested interest in maintaining their own viability for the future. Labels: Elizabeth Edwards, John Edwards, Rielle Hunter
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