Sunday, September 18, 2005
Peddy Cache
~ footpad résumé ~
My London, Corfiot, and Hong Kong friends are positively aGOG over our local outbreak of peddyculosis. Well, not the Greeks so much: one look at William K's patrician features and of course they claim him as their own, even holding up direct phonetic translation of his name into the affectionate diminutive Πεδδι (Pethi = Little Buddy) as evidence of his proud Ionian ancestry and diplomatic prowess. Of course, let a NON -Greek even hint that his regal mien and raffish good looks radiate the integrity of a down-town Euphrates camel-driver, and he'd have his throat slit sooner than you can say 'Director of Building & Planning'. Whereas the Brit and Cantonese contingent purse their lips and nod knowingly over Peddy's economy with the truth, over in the Cradle of Democracy, it's par for the course - nay, practically a political rite of passage - to glide from Bachelor Degree to third degree. Everyone falling over themselves to check out his (presumably now discredited) Website of Hubris. Where they *do* start looking nervous and invoking Saint Spiridon - and we're talking about a race whose national sport is metaphorical campaign management - is over 'Wild Dog' Olsen's unambiguous and typo-free threatening of Mayor K. with "the next IED" over "other very funny business she and senior staff have been up to." Despite assurances by me that this ballot buffoonery is all part of the master plan to attract sympathy for our dysfunctional equivalent of a mayoral candidate, they worry that the next Review front page will sport a photo of kyrios Ωlsenopoulos in fetching orange peering mournfully from the local hoosegow. But gosh haven't things moved apace? No sooner does The Buzz deliver its floating stinging exposé of Cathy's Clown than into the ring leaps Islander stalwart Steve Gardner followed in true tag-team fashion by the alliterative Baurick-bylined My dear, talk about plugs. I could barely focus on the fruits of TB's ferreting for all the gushing acknowledgements of the Paulson/Nickum set-up. (I do hope my faithful band of anonymous readerenes are noting all this conscientious "referencing".) Blimey, I'm beginning to see what she means: all this carpal linking is enough to leave any blogger dull-witted. Seriously, if I was in William K. Peddy's blue sude shoes, a light bead of perspiration would about now be adorning my noble brow. Tristan Baurick knows his sleuthy stuff and I must forewarn Mr Olsen and his builder's mate boss that there's not much metaphorical about the new findings. Double indeed.
If I know the BI electorate, we'll vote WKP in by an even wider margin.