Lord Help Us All

Michael Bloomberg knows what’s best for you.

By Jim Knipfel

As Tony Sokol predicted here just last week, Michael Bloomberg, mortified by the success of fellow billionaire Donald Trump and hoping to exploit the chaos within the Democratic Party, announced he was considering making his own third party run for the White House. Given he’d already been a Republican and a Democrat (depending on which was more expedient at the time), I guess a third-party run was the only thing left him.  Exactly how Bloomberg, a man with all the sparkling wit and personality of a flatworm (and a whining, sniveling flatworm at that) intends to compete against Trump’s arm-flapping racist bluster is anyone’s guess, but he’s the one with the billions, so I guess he knows best.

Thing about Bloomberg is, he not only knows what’s best for himself — he knows what’s best for you and me, too. In his eyes, we’re all a bunch of fat, lazy losers with no self-control, so it’s up to him (heavy, resigned sigh here) to shove through legislation dictating how we should live and act, in short how we should all be more like him.

After first being elected Mayor of NYC, he told Vanity Fair he only intended to serve one term because he “had better things to do.” Upon seeing what kind of power he really had to act on his compulsions in office, however, he bought himself some changes to the city constitution to grab himself a third term to continue his chiding and finger-waggling, as well as to ensure the city would be as inhospitable as possible to anyone who wasn’t a billionaire like him.

So he banned smoking in bars and restaurants, office buildings, parks and other public places, while at the same time jacking up the taxes until the cost of a pack of smokes reached Canadian levels. I may well have quit a long time ago, but decided to keep smoking, and smoking more even, simply to spite the sniveling little bastard. He banned the use of trans-fats, and in a blink the French fries across the city got really bad. He passed legislation demanding restaurants include calorie counts and sodium levels om their menus, and when he finally left office he was still trying to force through the ban on large sodas.

When anyone called him on his steel-fisted schoolmarmishness, he’d just roll his eyes and whine out some nasally crap about “helping people who didn’t know any better take care of themselves. Rudy Giuliani may have been a blowhard, a bully and a thug, but Bloomberg, while no less a bully, was one of those creepy little bullies who was just really fucking annoying.

Even worse than the whole asshole nanny shtick were his sad, carefully-orchestrated attempts to appear “populist.” He marked the opening of the city’s public pools one summer by jumping into one in the Bronx in his shirt and tie, and man did he ever look uncomfortable surrounded by all those shrieking, laughing poor black kids. He made a big deal of the fact he rode the subway to work every day like everyone else, though few reported this meant he rode three stops on the 6 (just long enough for his PR team to snap some pictures) before hopping out to climb into a waiting chauffeured SUV. He published his home phone number, encouraging New Yorkers to call any time with their questions or concerns because, see, he was a man of the people. In the end he only picked up once for a highly-publicized chat with a carefully vetted caller.

Everyone who lived under the Ned Flanders regime for those twelve long goddamn years has their own reason for despising the twerp. Not just smokers, the obese, and those with no self-control, but the poor and middle class, small businessmen, gun owners and anyone who remembered a time when New York was an entity with personality and style. Developers, the super-rich, and cops loved him, though, because he left them alone to do whatever the fuck they wanted here.

Considering the amount of damage he might inflict on the whole goddamn country if given half a chance, my only hope is a voting public so enamored with the likes of Donald Trump, would never in their wildest nightmares consider voting for a whiny gay Jewish asshole, let alone a whiny gay Jewish asshole running on the Insufferable Little Bossy Creep Who Knows Better Than You ticket.

Published January 28th, 2016


Jim Knipfel is the author of Slackjaw, The Blow-Off, These Children Who Come at You With Knives, and several other books.